


A second chance

by Ricksbowlegs



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Angst, Basset is Dwight's brother, Daryl is going to be an awesome dad, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Failed Relationships, Graphic Violence, Homophobic Language, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Carl, Protective Daryl, Protective Rick, Rick is stubborn, Rickyl Writers' Group, The Saviors are homophobes, Uncle Merle, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 66,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5502278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricksbowlegs/pseuds/Ricksbowlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick and Daryl's relationship reached it's inevitable end, but then something happens that has the potential to bring them back together again. Will they risk it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's over

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! New Rickyl fic! Hope you enjoy! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. Please, try to ignore them.  
> Disclaimer: None of the walking dead characters are mine and I don't make profit from this. It's all for fun!

Rick sat on the bed, stretching his sore, stiff limbs in the process. He grimaced in pain as the movement caused a dull headache to settle and the room to spin for several seconds. Daryl was still asleep beside him, snoring lightly and completely naked. He wasn't expecting the longing he felt as he let his eyes travel up and down the archer’s limp form, taking his time to study each scar marring the otherwise smooth skin covering the broad back. He’d always wanted to know how the older man had gotten those; Rick had a clue, but he’d wanted to hear the story from Daryl’s mouth. He knew now it wasn’t going to happen.

Sighing, he stood up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

They had sex last night– not love filled, mind-blowing sex– just plain drunken sex. He couldn’t recall if he even enjoyed it. 

Rick couldn’t help but feel a bit icky all over as he studied his reflection in the mirror. He looked awful: His too long to be called stubble was unkempt and graying on the ends; hair, a mess of too long curls; eyes tired and red. There was a love bite–scratch that–a lust bite in his neck. It looked angry and unattractive. Nothing he would pride himself of. Not like he used to, when Daryl–in his sometimes animalistic ways– would grab him and mark him as his own while Rick laughed and squirmed with joy to be in the hunter’s arms. Now, it pissed him off. How would he go to work the next day with that thing?

He climbed into the shower mindful of the dull pain in his backside and started to scrub, grimacing in disgust when he reached back to clean his behind and found dried, sticky semen. _Jerk!_ How many times did he have to tell him to wear a condom?

Could he really blame him, though? They were both pretty out of it last night. Otherwise they wouldn’t have had sex in the first place. It’d been a while since their last time–hence the ache in his bottom. Was there even preparation?

Once satisfied with the aggressive scrub that turned his skin pink, Rick turned off the water cap and pulled the curtain to the side revealing a barely conscious Daryl empting his bladder. Rick pulled the curtain back, covering half his body with it, huffing in annoyance.

“Couldn’t you wait till I was done?” he hissed.

“No,” was the archer’s nonchalant, grunted answer. It annoyed Rick. 

Daryl had a way of letting everything slide off his shoulder’s…or pretend it did. If something bothered the archer, he kept his mouth shut and started to work on his bike, or went off hunting innocent animals somewhere in the woods to return days later with a clear mind; Rick needed to blow up the moment he felt anger, which was rather uncharacteristic of him. When he lived with Lori and they got into arguments, he was the one who kept calm and tried to reason with her; he barely got angry at all and would never yell or snap out biting remarks. 

Maybe the divorce and the cheating damaged him more than he’d originally thought.

Rick understood Lori better now. He’d never been a big talker himself, but Daryl won that hand alright. It was how their problems began. He wanted to know more about Daryl, but the archer had built impenetrable walls around his self. They could spend days without talking, exchanging words only when strictly necessary. Sometimes, the only sound filling the heavy silence were Rick’s monologues about items they’d ran out of a while ago and they needed to get from the store. 

They were lousy at housekeeping, but Rick tried to keep it somewhat habitable. He’d been domesticated by Lori for years and as much as he hated to hear himself bitching at the older man, it bothered him how Daryl was incapable of cleaning after himself and seemed to make an effort to mess everything up. He was like a huge child at times. 

At least they had a full year of blissful happiness before things started to crumble.

Rick’s recent divorce had left him hollow and lost. Shane, his best friend and his wife had betrayed him, and quite ridiculously dramatic, right after he got shot and fell into a coma for nearly a month. But he had his suspicious it had started way before that. Now, Lori and Shane formed a happy family with his son, Carl, who he was barely able to see anymore except on weekends, and who, as he grew older, had better ways to spend said weekends than with his dad. Rick was starting to fear the kid didn’t love him anymore.

To put it lightly, he couldn’t stand to work in the same place as Shane anymore, not when everybody at the station knew what had transpired between the former friends and their situation. But that wasn’t the main reason he’d quit his job. 

After being shot, Rick was rather reluctant to work as a cop. The post trauma forced him to look for a different source of income, one that offered less chances of getting shot, and the local car repair workshop was short a shop attendant, so he took it without hesitation. 

That’s where he met Daryl. 

Rick attributed it to his precarious current situation that he gravitated so utterly toward the mechanic. The man was rude and gruff, and his favorite answer to all was a mere grunt, sometimes accompanied by a scowl, but Rick saw more than that. Daryl seemed like a man he could truly trust. 

In spite of the mechanic’s reluctance, they made friends surprisingly fast. Daryl offered to teach him how to hunt when he wouldn’t stop asking questions the first time he saw the older man’s crossbow. Turned out, he was hopeless to say the least, plus, it never sat well with Rick to kill animals just like that. They still went out hunting together, even if Rick would just follow Daryl around with no clue of what he was doing. He was marveled at the older man’s knowledge of the woods and tracking skills and Rick was incommensurably thankful for the distraction. Lori and Shane barely had room in his thoughts thanks to Daryl Dixon. 

It was in one of those frequent hunting trips Rick and Daryl kissed and made love for the first time, with no witnesses other than the wild animals and trees sounding them.

Rick was hesitant of course; scared. It was his first time with someone other than Lori, but more than that, it was his first time with a man. But the archer exuded such confidence that night, such calmness that Rick wanted to let go. And he did. He gave himself to Daryl in body and heart that night, and every night after that. 

A few weeks later, Daryl moved in with him to the worn-down house he’d rented and it became their home. But things had changed since. The thrill of being in a relationship with such a rowdy, dangerous looking man died eventually, and two years in, knowing each other’s annoying habits, the maddening love they held for each other had grown thin. 

And maybe they never had it in the first place.

It was worse now, and it kept getting worse. They rarely kissed or touch anymore. And it pained Rick, how Daryl was so far away, so unattainable; so not… _his_. 

It was that mysterious quality that used to draw Rick to the hunter like moth to a flame when they met. The older man hid a past he didn’t want to tell Rick about and it’d seemed like a challenge at first, one he was delighted to take upon, but two years had gone by and he’d gotten nothing. Rick hardly knew anything about the man he claimed to love.

And he lived in fear of losing him. Daryl loved to disappear on him then return days later like nothing had happened. It wrecked Rick’s nerves not knowing if the hunter would be back at all next time. But that was Daryl: an untamable beast; wild, free and mysterious, completely out of his reach.

That’s how Rick realized that he craved stability. He craved a family he could rely on and a cozy, clean home to get to at the end of the day. He craved the life he used to have with Lori and it made sense. He used to be a family man. He’d been that for years. 

It excited him at first, that carefree lifestyle; the being together but not actually together–two grown men in a crumbling, dirty house with no structure or constancy of any kind. But it grew old and Rick was tired. 

All he had left was his son, but Carl was fifteen going on sixteen. He had a girlfriend now, Enid something, and therefore, less time to waste on his father. His son's weekends were precious to spend with said girlfriend, so when they did hang out, he was met with an impatient, annoyed teenager who kept his eyes glued on his phone and answered to Rick’s questions in monosyllables. To top it all, Rick had the slight suspicion that it didn’t sit well with the teen that his father was being done by another man. No matter how scarcely that happened lately.

The last remains of his old life and its stability were falling apart around him and he could do nothing to stop it.

He snatched his towel from the perch and wrapped it around his wet self then stepped off the shower, accidentally shoving the archer as he walked past him toward the bedroom.

“Shit. Careful…don’ wanna stain yer precious toilet.” 

Rick ignored the tease and slammed the door shut behind him. He got dressed quickly as he heard Daryl taking a shower. _About damn time_ ; the smell of stale sweat and gutted animals stopped being exciting a while ago.

He grimaced as he looked upon their bed. The sheets were rumpled and most definitely dirty with their last night activities so he snatched them away to throw in the washer later. 

It didn’t use to bother him this much.

Daryl came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, still naked but clean, running the towel that should be around his hips through his wet hair. Rick used to love running his fingers through its softness. _Used to_.

The younger man turned, giving his back to Daryl and fixed his gaze out of the window, giving the man privacy to get dressed. Instead, Rick felt the man stepping closer and cringed when the arms he used to love around him wrapped around his midsection. He grabbed the archer’s wrists before they could completely embrace him and forced the arms away.

“Don’t try to pretend that what happened last night happened for any other reason than us being wasted.”

Daryl sighed behind him; a deep, drawn out, defeated sound. 

“Ya should drink more often, yer a real asshole when yer sober.”

Rick certainly wasn’t expecting that and wanted to snap back an equally biting remark at the archer, but held back and took a deep breath instead.

“I want us to break up,” he blurted. Not because he wanted to hurt Daryl, but because he actually wanted to break up. It was enough. 

After a long, heavy silence, he heard Daryl getting dressed a tad bit aggressively. 

Rick spoke over his shoulder. “Leave…and don’t come back this time.”

“Fine,” Daryl grunted.

In a matter of minutes, Daryl was outside starting his bike. No goodbyes, no grunted _later_ ; nothing. The familiar rumble of the vehicle sent a pang of the same longing he felt earlier to his chest. He used to love that sound, when the hunter pulled over by their driveway, announcing his coming home. It broke his heart now.

He hadn’t told Daryl yet, but tomorrow was his last day at the workshop. Just one day of painful awkwardness and then it’d be over. They’d be mere strangers that ran into each other in the street or the store once in a while, exchanging nothing more than awkward, evasive glances. 

Daryl looked up and their eyes met. The archer’s head bowed in a silent goodbye and Rick’s eyes brimmed with tears. It was over.


	2. An unexpected visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer than I expected 'cause editing is not my strong, but here it is! chapter two. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Check the tags for new warnings for later chapters.

The next day, Dale greeted him in his usual lecturing fashion when he came in a tad bit late to work, if you could call an hour a tad bit. 

“Good. You are here. I was about to call Jim to replace you…again.”

Daryl parked his bike in its usual spot and turned off the engine. There was a blue bag hanging from a perch on the wall beside it; his bag. Rick must’ve brought his stuff. So it _was_ over.

“Slept in,” the hunter grunted in response and went to work on the car Dale led him to. Rick came to the back a few seconds later and stood awkwardly near the car, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and insistently rubbing his right hand index with his thumb and middle finger, nervous no doubt.

Daryl started putting on his oil-stained overall, leaving the top part loose around his waist and lit a cigarette that fell from one of its pockets, dismissing the look of disapproval Dale threw his way and waited for Rick to speak before looking at him. 

“Hi,” the former deputy greeted in a strained voice. Daryl offered a nod as a hello and briefly met the other man’s blue eyes, then down at the engine in front as he started to get busy with the car, cigarette in between his lips. “I–I brought your things,” Rick said. Daryl just hummed in acknowledgment. “Daryl…I need to tell you something.” 

The archer didn’t want to look back at Rick, hating how red and puffy the man’s eyes looked. The younger man must’ve cried a great deal during the night. He would’ve cried too if he hadn’t been pissed drunk.

“Could you at least look at me?”

“Why?” Daryl grunted; head buried in the car’s engine, “Can hear ya well from here.” 

Rick took in a deep breath and let it all out before speaking. “I quitted. Today’s my last day here.”

Those words made his stomach sink. 

“Yer running off ‘cause we broke up?” he asked, forcing his voice to sound neutral in spite of the tight knot forming in his throat.

“I’m not–” Rick sighed again. “I just…thought you should know.”

Daryl came back up and blue eyes met blue for agonizing long seconds. Rick seemed to be waiting for Daryl to say something and he wanted to say more. He wanted to let the younger man know he loved him and that he’d always have and tell him that he could change. He wanted to beg Rick to give him another chance and tell him he couldn’t stand the thought of not being with him anymore, but once again, the words died in his tongue. “Thanks for the heads up,” came out instead, in a rather cold tone before he resumed his work on the engine while mentally berating himself. 

Apparently, the Dixon genes ruled his mouth.

He felt more than saw Rick taking a hesitant step closer, like he wanted to say more, only to turn back on his heels and walk away. Daryl’s hand, previously gripping the wrench with such force his knuckled turned white, lost its grip and the tool slipped from it hitting the side of the engine with a clank. They were shaking, his hands, so he tightened them into fists and rested his weight on them to keep them steady as he leaned against the car, letting out a shaky breath to calm down. 

_Ya lost him. It’s yer own fault. Get over it_.

Daryl knew this would happen eventually. It was doomed to end this way, for Daryl fell too fast and too hard for the younger man and the feeling was overwhelming enough for him to start acting like an asshole.

Rick was everything he had ever wanted but didn’t know he did. He represented the life Daryl never dared to even hope for, the kind of life that was forbidden for a trash redneck like him, but he couldn’t help to fall helplessly in love with the younger man. So much that at times– when he let his guard down–he’d caught himself feeling actual happiness. And happiness was a dangerous thing. It made you blind to all the bad things coming your way. That’s how you ended up without a mother, back to live with your abusive dad, carrying a pain too great to understand and with no clue of how it came to happen. 

So when happiness loomed its treacherous head, Daryl’s instinct and the need to escape for a few days kicked in. 

Hunting was a great distraction. It kept him leveled, concentrated, aware. But like everything remotely good, it had its consequences and Rick got hit with the backlash, for most times, Daryl would leave without even letting him know.

What could he do, though? Daryl was afraid of being with the younger man, afraid of losing him; afraid of letting go and giving himself completely in return and become one half of a whole. He was scared of showing who he was; of Rick realizing that there was nothing to him, nothing worth sharing; nothing worth knowing. So he remained mysterious and built a wall around himself, acutely aware of how much it hurt the younger man to be left out.

Daryl had to give it to Rick. He'd put up with him for longer than any other would have. 

They didn’t exchange more words until closing time. 

Rick said goodbye to Dale and both men hugged warmly. Daryl stood by his bike, mulling over whether it would be appropriate to hug the other man, or kiss him, or holding onto him so hard he could never leave his side. 

Unbelievable enough, Dale pissed off to his office to give them privacy. Rick walked up to meet him. Their eyes met and both held their gazes steadily. They hadn’t done that in months. 

Rick outstretched his hand, offering a tiny smile. “Goodbye, Daryl.”

Daryl took it and squeezed tight. Before they were an item but already friends, they used to say goodbye just like that. It wasn’t a cold handshake. It was more intimate than that, but it still wasn’t a hug and he wanted to hug Rick so badly.

“Bye, Rick. Take care of yerself, and yer kid.”

“You too.”

Rick’s eyes twinkled with imminent tears. Those came easy to the man; especially with sad scenes in movies or TV shows. Daryl used to love teasing him about it for he found it terribly endearing.

Their hands broke apart all too soon as Rick turned his back on him with a last _bye_ , and walked out of the shop with haste, probably leaving before Daryl could see him cry. 

The hunter felt like a piece of his heart was being ripped apart as the distance between them grew. He followed his former lover’s retreating form with slightly damp eyes, until it disappeared from sight; the words _hold up_ stuck in his throat. 

Not once did Rick turn.

Dale sprung out of nowhere–maybe the bastard hadn’t really left– and stared at him with those intense, inquisitive eyes. “I’m not going to ask this time, because I know how much you hate it, but I’m counting on that whatever happened between you two doesn’t affect your work.”

“Piss off ol’man,” he hissed halfheartedly. Dale smirked and went back to his office. The man was a good friend but he had got to learn how to keep his nose out of everyone’s business.

Daryl left the shop with a heavy heart. It wasn’t going back to Rick’s place no more. The night before, he’d gone back to his dad’s old cabin where he used to live before Rick’s place, and it was a depressing sight. Not because it reminded Daryl of his harsh childhood, but because the whole place spoke of Rick Grimes. 

During their first year and as their relationship developed into something more than friendship, this old thing had become their refuge. They used to stop by before going out hunting where he attempted to teach Rick’s helpless ass about tracking and how to use the crossbow and as a rest stop when they got back tired and dirty. 

Rick’s presence had filled the place with good memories until there was no room left for the old bad ones, to the extent Daryl had become fond of the cabin. They’d slept right in the middle of the ruined living room, had sex in every mattress and couch available; they’d kissed, laughed, gotten drunk, talked about unimportant subjects. Rick had told him about his life and Daryl had listened intently to every word but hadn’t shared much of his own life. They’d fallen in love within those walls and in the woods surrounding it, and now, the place made Daryl’s heart ache.

The first time they had sex, Rick was a bundle of nerves. Daryl was as well but hid it quite well. He knew how it worked but had never actually gone through with it. He’d merely received the occasional blowjob in dark parking lots and dirty bars restrooms from girls whose names and faces he’d forgotten the next day. But Rick didn’t need to know that. Plus, the younger man kept sending him this vulnerable looks, asking the hunter for guidance, much like when they were hunting. And thought this time Daryl didn’t have the answers or knowledge, he built a mask of confidence about himself and took charge, because that was what Rick needed from him.

Rick became pliant under him as he gave himself completely to the archer. Daryl remembered being astonished by the man’s beauty; all pale, unmarred skin and lithe limbs, and his unwavering trust in him as the archer sunk deeper and deeper into that tight, welcoming warmth over and over again. Making love to Rick had been bliss that first night and every time after that, to their very last one.

Sadly, after that first year, Rick became unhappy and bitter and no one was to blame but Daryl. 

If Rick gave him another chance, would he be able to make up for all his mistakes?

The next day, he went to visit Merle like he always did. Daryl never even told Rick he had a brother.

“Sup, lil brother? Why ya lookin’ so down? Did officer friendly made ya sleep on the couch again?”

“Go to hell, Merle.”

“I already am,” the older brother spat with resentment, like it was everyone else’s fault but his he’d ended there. 

“Don’ wanna talk ‘bout it.”

“Nah, uh. I’m interested,” Merle said and inched closer, resting his elbows on the table. “I care ‘bout ya, ya know?” 

Daryl huffed, reluctant to tell Merle what’d happened. “He ended it.”

Merle’s expression changed into an amused smirk. “Did he now? Reckon he went finding himself a bigger dick, one with actual balls hanging under it?”

“Don’ say those things about him,” Daryl warned. He was used to Merle’s verbal abuse and hardly took it to heart anymore. Merle could say whatever he wanted about him, but he was mistaken if he thought he could bad mouth Rick.

“Why not? He yer boyfriend or somethin’?” Daryl threw Merle a dirty look. “No, he ain’t. Not anymore. So he’s just the pig who messed with my lil brothers’ head.”

“Shut up, Merle!” he hissed, low enough not to attract the staff’s attention.

“Alright, alright, don’ get yer panties in a bundle.”

Daryl stared down at the table between them, sighing pathetically. 

“It’s for the better, lil brother. That cop had you wrapped around his finger. Bet ya said yes to all he asked. He got his own little bitch.” 

“I ain’t nobodie’s bitch,” Daryl said, tired of repeating it.

“But ya’d do anythin’ he told ya…” Merle argued.

“Ya don’t get it.” 

He didn’t. He’d do more, much more. He’d die for Rick.

“How’s that? I know ya better than anyone. I know ya ain’t ever been like this for no one before. Yer like a starved dog takin’ whatever scraps its master throws at it. Pathetic.”

“Ya don’ know shit,” Daryl muttered. 

“Forget his ass; it probably belongs to someone else now.”

“Fuck, Merle! Don’ talk ‘bout him that way. Ya don’ know ‘im. He ain’t like that.”

“’Course I don’. How could I? S’not like they let me out for strolls in the park. And ya never brought ‘im here to meet good ole’ Merle. Yer own brother. Are ya that ashamed of me?”

Merle had a point. It wasn’t Merle in particular that he was ashamed of, though. It was everything that had to do with himself. 

“I know what it is, Darlina. Ya fell too deep for ‘im and he didn’t meet ya halfway. Ya wasn’t enough for ‘im, I bet. I told ya. Ain’t nobody gonna care ‘bout ya, lil’ brother. I’m all ya got.”

“It aint’ true. Rick cared. Said so all the time,” He replied calmly. Merle’s venomous line didn’t hit him as it used to.

“Is that so?” Merle asked with a smirk.

“t’was me the problem. Never said it back, was me givin’ the scraps.”

“Oh, boy,” Merle laughed. “He got bored of waiting for ya then. Ain’t that sad?”

Daryl stood up from the chair and scowled at Merle. “Can’t talk to ya 'bout nothin’”

“Hey, wait up!” he heard Merle say behind him but he was already leaving.

After his conversation with Merle, Daryl decided it was better to leave things be. Rick had had enough and deserved to move on.

Almost three months passed tortuously slow and Daryl was finally back on his feet. He hadn’t seen Rick since that day at the workshop, and without the other man there, he didn’t feel the compulsive need to skip work anymore. Dale was quite happy with him. He even gave him a raise. 

He still went out hunting but less now. Daryl figured that being with Rick had changed him in some ways for he didn’t feel so strong a need to drag himself from everyone else anymore. He’d even started to make friends with the new shop attendant, Carol; first friend he’d ever had– aside from Rick of course, and Dale who acted more like a father than a friend. 

Carol had been abused by her husband for years before the bastard died of a heart attack almost a year ago– kind of like his dad. Daryl found he could relate to her and trust her with some of his past. Having someone with the same problems as him listen to him made Daryl feel less inadequate. Carol was an amazingly strong and capable woman, being abused for years didn’t take anything from her. 

Christmas was around the corner, just a couple of days away, and Carol had insisted on inviting him over to spend it with her and her daughter, little Sophia, who’d taken quite a like to him as well. It was their first Christmas without Ed’s abusive ass and they wanted to make it special. Daryl figured that the best way to thank them and to contribute was to bring them a deer for dinner, which Carol gladly accepted. 

He was nervous about the whole thing, but he knew he'd feel comfortable with them. They made him feel like he belonged, like he was part of a family and he hadn’t had that since his mother’s death. When Rick appeared in his thoughts, the excitement was replaced by guilt as he wondered how the younger man would spend his Christmas since Carl would probably spend it with his mother. 

_It’s okay_ , Rick had said to him two years ago, in their first Christmas together, _you are here with me_. 

Now… it would be terrible if Rick had to spend it alone. So even if the idea pained him, the archer truly hoped Rick had moved on and found someone new, someone who wasn’t afraid of showing the man how much they loved him.

It wasn’t an easy catch and the snow didn’t make it any easier, but eventually, he succeeded. The archer was coming back, dragging the body behind him when he saw the familiar car parked outside the cabin. If he wasn’t mistaken, that car belonged to Rick.

He approached the back door quietly, leaving the deer behind so he could enter without been heard and entered the kitchen. 

There Rick was, standing by one of the windows in the living room and staring out at the white woods, deep in thought. Daryl’s heart skipped a beat at the beautiful sight. 

“Rick?” the hunter said once his thoughts finally restarted and approached the man slowly.

“Shit!” Rick spun toward him and put a hand over his chest as he sighed in relief when he saw it was Daryl. “You scared me.”

He snorted. “Sorry.”

Daryl studied the man in front closely. The younger man didn’t look good, but at the same time he did. Tired but gorgeous; a bit too thin, but rosy-cheeked and radiant, not at all like the last time he saw him. His beard was gone, just a bit of graying stubble showing instead and his hair had grown giving him a younger look. He was wearing a brown coat a tad big for him and had his hands buried deep in its pockets, tugging down the garment and narrowing his shoulders. There was something in those clear blue eyes when they locked with his for nearly a minute before any of them said anything, something the archer couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

It was Rick who spoke first.

“I’m sorry to bother you. It was open so I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind but I was freezing out there…the heat in my car broke so…” Rick explained, stuttering with nerves and shivering from cold and all Daryl wanted to do was to wrap the man in his arms and never let him be cold again.

Daryl didn't reply. The shock of seeing Rick again after three months of nothing left him speechless. 

“I should have told you I was coming but I didn’t know how else to reach you. I went to the workshop but Dale told me you wouldn’t be back till next week.”

Rick tended to talk a lot when he was nervous, going around the bushes before getting to the point, but he always got to the point in the end.

The man’s eyes fixed on the crossbow hanging from his shoulder. “You were out hunting?”

He nodded. 

Rick stared down at his shoes, and pushed his hands further into his pocket, lower lip caught between his teeth.

“I need to tell you something, Daryl.”


	3. Big news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! 
> 
> Remeber it's unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine. Try to ignore them or point them out to me if they're too terrible. 
> 
> Keep checking the tags for new warnings. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And happy new year y'all!

To put it simply, the past months had been hell for Rick. 

He was devastated after the break up for it turned out having Daryl in short bouts was far better than not having him at all. The archer was all he could think of and it was driving him insane. But Rick knew he had to go through with it and move on eventually, so he tried to join the law enforcement team again and applied for a job in a different department from Shane’s. What better way to keep his mind occupied than by doing what he loved?

He meant to start slow, doing desk work, anything that wouldn’t get him out in the streets just yet–if he was ever able to go back–but unforeseen health issues arose and he was unable to go forward with it.

It began as a light queasiness in the mornings, nothing to bat an eyelash for, and it would go away after a couple hours. But it only increased in intensity as the days passed, to the point in which the nausea was so bad, Rick had to spend all day in bed, unable to eat or drink anything without throwing up. He’d even had to cancel on Carl on several occasions.

Rick hated going to the doctor with a passion, so it took him a whole month of suffering, a dramatic weight loss and to actually fear for his life to finally cave in. 

He got looked over by three different doctors–none of which offered any solution or a definitive diagnosis– each coming up with different ones, such as the flue, food poisoning, or allergies, and he was sent home with nothing but useless recommendations to rest, drink lots of fluids and to indulge in some Benadryl that did nothing to quench the nausea but knocked him out for most of the day. Rick was so miserable he’d even been tempted to tell Daryl once or twice. 

He’d lost all hope of finding a solution when he made an appointment with Dr Greene, their family physician, who he’d been reluctant to visit before for fear of running into Lori. 

The elderly man gave Rick the most terrifying news he’d ever gotten.

_“Dr Greene…you must be mistaken.”_

_“Well, Rick, you are more than welcome to get a second opinion.”_

_“You are the fourth doctor I see and the first one who’s told me…this.”_

_“Well, it is understandable. Male pregnancy isn’t a common thing so it’s easy to pass up. But I’m telling you, Rick, you are with child.”_

_“But how–?”_

_“I do believe you are familiar with sex. Your son is a good indication of that.”_

_“I’m not saying–” he tried but Dr. Greene interrupted him._

_“Less than 1% of the male population is able to carry life inside them― most of them never find out―you, Rick, are one of those lucky few. Congratulations.”_

After the news, Rick spent two weeks trying to deny the possibility and convincing himself that the bump in his stomach was everything but what Dr Greene had told him, until he got an ultrasound (one he’d been deliberately delaying) and it showed that Dr Greene was in fact, right in his diagnosis. 

Rick was terrified. What would he do with a child? How would he raise it on his own? Daryl had already expressed his aversion to stay around him for longer than four days straight in the last months they were together. And although Rick still loved the hunter, he was unwilling to go through that again, and even less willing to allow his child to go through the same. He had to tell him, though.

 

Daryl looked good, in that scruffy, redneck–hunter appearance of his, but good, as he waited for Rick to say his piece. How could he even begin to explain something he still had a hard time believing himself, to Daryl, none the less, the man that still made him weak in the knees? And how would the archer take the news? Would he even believe him? 

“D’ya want anythin’? There’s water…and…beer,” Daryl asked as he fumbled in the kitchen area. A rather funny sight since the archer was helpless in there.

“Water is fine.” 

He was cold to the bone and didn’t want to drink even colder water, but he needed to do something with his fidgeting hands and couldn’t really accept the beer, could he? 

“Ya can sit down, ya know?” Daryl gestured with his arm toward the old, brown couch propped against the wall to his right. Rick stared longingly at the piece of furniture. They’d made love in that couch.

“Sorry ‘bout the look of this place…” 

He looked back at the archer in confusion. Daryl must’ve thought he was looking at the mess on top of said couch. Rick grimaced at that. _Take it or leave it_ , the archer used to say when they were merely becoming friends and he’d tease him about his lack of manners and rowdy life style. And he loved that about him. The archer was who he was and didn’t give two shits what the rest thought of him. Why did that change so drastically? 

Daryl came to the living room and handed him the glass of water then sat down heavily on the green armchair across from the couch Rick had just sat on, taking out his pack of smokes to lit one; hollow–cheeked with the enthusiasm of that first drag to ensure it lit right.

Rick took a sip of his water and eyed the slowly spreading smoke worriedly as it came near him. Putting the glass down, he stood up, waving the smoke away casually as he moved toward the window. When the smoke started reaching him, Rick opened it and took a deep breath of cold air.

Heavy silence settled in the room. Daryl broke it with a question accompanied by a jerk of the head and a shrug of his shoulder. 

“So what did ya need t’tell me?”

There was no way out of it. He had to say it now. Daryl had a right to know.

Taking a deep breath, Rick pushed his hands deep within his pockets and looked down at his boots.

_Just say it. One word at a time._

“I–I haven’t been feeling well lately…” Probably not the best way to start for when Rick looked up to meet Daryl’s eyes, he found alarm in them. “I went to the doctor…” he continued but Daryl cut him through it.

“Ya better not be tellin’ me yer dying. Don’ ya fuckin’ dare, Rick.”

It surprised him, the intensity in which Daryl said those words as he stood up to stand right in front of him; jarring fear marring the older man’s voice. Rick had to let out a shaky breath to calm down.

“No, nothin’ like that,” he sighed.

The archer’s relief was evident, but he still started pacing the room like a caged animal, then came back to stand in front of him again, and pointing an accusatory finger at his face, he hissed. “Don’ ya do that to me again, Grimes.”

Rick felt like bursting out laughing, but he still had to say those loaded words which took the mirth out of the situation quickly. At least he wasn’t dying. 

He nodded and Daryl turned his back on him, shoulders tense and drawn back, ready for attack. Thank God he wasn’t dying.

“I–there’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“’m waitin’” the hunter said and turned to meet his eyes again. They looked dangerous.

Taking a deep breath, Rick closed his eyes and let the words fall out of his mouth. “Daryl…I’m pregnant.”

 

―――――—―――――――

 

“Come again?” he gruffed. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Daryl narrowed his eyes and let them roam over the younger man’s face for confirmation. The man fidgeted under his gaze but kept his eyes locked with his and the archer saw the raw uncertainty and fear in them. Rick wasn’t lying.

“How long’ve ya known?”

Rick looked at him in disbelief. “You believe me?”

“Are ya lyin’ t’me?” There was a dangerous note to his voice, one he hadn’t intended.

“God, no,” Rick was quick to reply.

“Then why wouldn’t I?”

“’Cause it’s–it’s―” Rick huffed and ran a hand through his stubbled jaw. “I’ve had a hard time believing it myself.”

“So how long?” he insisted.

“A few weeks…” Rick said vaguely, eyes on his boots again, “four to be precise.”

“So ya’ve known for a whole month?”

The younger man nodded stiffly.

“And how come I just hear of it now?” Daryl couldn’t mask the frustration in his voice.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Rick said in his defense.

“How long are ya?”

Rick bit his lip. “Eleven and a half weeks.”

Daryl felt his anger rising. “So let me process this. Ya’re almost three months pregnant with my child ‘n I just hear from it now?”

Rick cocked his head to the side, a deep frown marring his ―now angry as well―features. “Hey, I didn’t know until a month ago. And during that month I had to convince myself it was true. I couldn’t just come barging here with this kind of news without being absolutely sure.”

He started pacing the room again then came to an abrupt stop in front of Rick, forcing the man to take a short step back. 

“Lemme see.” The younger man eyed him cautiously. “I wanna see my child.”

Their eyes locked for several seconds with fierce intensity. Rick broke the stare first and took a deep breath before he brought his hands to the zipper of his coat and pulled it all the way down. Daryl made to push the younger man’s hands away but Rick resisted, covering his belly protectively.

“Hey, m’not gonna hurt ya,” Daryl snarled, hurt that he’d even had to say it. 

Rick nodded. “Sorry…I–I know… I know.”

The hands pulled away and Daryl had full access to Rick’s belly. He was wearing a black sweater so the bump wasn’t evident at first sight, but when he put his hands on top, he could easily feel the prominent bump in place of what used to be Rick’s flat stomach. 

His child. That was his child growing in there. _Their_ child.

Daryl’s chest filled with warmth that spread from his stomach to his chest and immediately his eyes started to water. His throat constricted and a sob escaped his lips. The need to wrap Rick in his arms surged through Daryl and he didn’t fight it. The younger man offered no resistance. 

He cried against Rick’s shoulder, tightening his arms around the man’s lean frame, mindful not to squish the bump between them. He could feel Rick slumping against him as the tension left his body and the sniffs were a good indication that he was also crying. 

They parted after a while, suddenly embarrassed and they made their best to avoid looking into each other’s tearstained faces as they wiped them away.

“So what did the doc tell ya? Is it healthy?” The archer asked once he’d calmed enough.

“I got an ultrasound last week. It looks healthy so far,” Rick said and fished something out of his pocket, handing it to him. Daryl let out a breathy laugh as his chest filled with happiness when he saw the picture of their baby and his eyes started watering again. 

“Was it that last night we had sex?”

Rick nodded. “It had to be. We hadn’t done it in a while before that…and you didn’t wear a condom.” 

“I’d say ’m sorry but I ain't.” How could he when Rick had just given him the best news he’d ever gotten? “I’m gonna be a dad,” he said with childish enthusiasm. 

Rick unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile by looking down then turned serious all of a sudden. “Yes, you’re going to be a dad, but Daryl…I didn’t come here to demand anything from you. You can be as involved as you want. I’ll understand if you–“

“Lemme stop ya right there before ya say somethin’ stupid. I ain’t gonna leave ya alone through this. I’m gonna be there for both ya. I’m gonna be involved.” 

Daryl stepped closer and grabbed Rick’s face between his palms and kissed the plump lips he’d missed so much. Rick didn’t respond. Instead, he put his hands in Daryl’s shoulders and gently pushed him away.

“No.”

Daryl studied the face in front but Rick wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Da hell ya mean no?”

Rick shook his head. “We’re not getting back together, Daryl. We can’t.”

“Yeah, we can. Can’t ya see we’re about to have a baby. It’s gonna need a family.”

“And it’ll have one…but we can’t.”

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout, Rick?” Daryl grunted, “’course we can.”

“We already tried that. It didn’t work. It won’t work now just because we’re going to have a baby. We’re gonna end up breaking up again...and I’m not gonna do that to our child. Carl’s suffered a lot with what happened between Lori and me. I’m not gonna let that happen to this one too,” Rick said, placing a protective hand over his swollen belly.

“Damn it, Rick,” Daryl huffed, “It ain’t gonna be like that.”

“Let’s not do this,” Rick ran a hand through his face and sighed. “We can make it work…but not as a couple. I don’t want my child wondering where his daddy’s gone to for the fourth time in a month,” Rick firmly said. 

Daryl felt like crying all over again, but for very different reasons. He was angry, but not at Rick. He was angry at himself and the situation. He knew it wouldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t let himself just up and leave with a child on the way, but he couldn’t blame Rick for believing he would. Words would do nothing now, though. Daryl would have to prove himself with actions and by being there every day from now on. 

“Fine,” he grunted. “So how ya s’pose we do this?”

Rick sighed. “Like I said, you can be as involved as you want. But since we’re not together our child will be used to you not being around all the time… and you won’t get sick of us,” Rick said that last part in a whisper, but he heard it alright. It hurt that the younger man thought that.

_Sick of them? Sick of Rick? He could never…_

“I ain’t gonna leave, Rick,” he assured.

“You don’t need to promise me anythin', Daryl,” Rick said. “I can do this on my own.”

“Sure ya can,” Daryl nodded and bit his lower lip. “But m’not gonna let ya.”

Rick looked at him through narrowed eyes, but nodded after a while and coked his head to the side, looking away. “Alright.” 

A heavy silence followed but Rick broke it soon enough. 

“I have to go. I have to meet up with Carl in an hour…”

He nodded awkwardly and followed Rick toward the door but just then remembered the phone Dale had forced him to carry around in case of an emergency at the workshop. “Hold up.”

“What is it?” Rick asked from the doorway as he went to fetch it.

“Dale handed me his old phone so he could keep track on me.”

Rick chuckled. “He did that? How did he manage it?”

“Threatened to fire me. He did for a couple days…so when I went to the workshop to beg it back, the old bastard was grinning from ear to ear, holdin’ this thing up, gave me no choice.” Rick laughed at that. “Ya laughin’ at me now?” He asked in feigned irritation.

“Sorry,” Rick said, still smiling though. Daryl snorted in response.

“Call yerself. If ya need anythin’…I’ll come runnin’,” he said, holding out the phone for Rick to take.

Rick seemed hesitant at first but then grabbed the phone and typed his number. Daryl was satisfied when it rang in the younger man’s pocket. Rick fished it out, flipped it open and typed something in it, his name, hopefully. 

“I have to get goin’…Carl,” Rick said and handed him his phone back.

“Yeah…and ya know, anythin’ ya need,” Daryl said pointedly.

Rick nodded but made no move to leave. Daryl noticed how pale the younger man looked; way paler than just moments ago and there was an unfocused look in his eyes as he stood on wobbly legs by the door. 

“Hey,” Daryl grabbed Rick’s forearm when the man made to open the door with a shaky hand. “Ya don’ look good. Want me to drive ya?”

“Nah, I got it,” the younger man said and just then, stumbled on his feet.

Daryl stood closely, holding his arms out in case the former sheriff fainted. “Rick, ya should cancel on Carl. I’ll drive ya home.”

“No. I’ve done that way too many times of late. And I wanted to tell him today…he doesn’t know,” Rick said, voice thick with guilt.

“Well ya don’ seem fine,” he said, still holding the man’s forearm to steady him. “The brat’s gotta understand.”

“Don’t call him a brat.” 

“I will when he stops acting like one,” Daryl huffed, stubbornly. His worry increasing as Rick swayed on his feet. “Maybe I should take ya to the doc.”

Rick waved him off, sighing in defeat. “I’m fine, Daryl.” 

And just as he said that, Rick’s legs gave out.

“Rick!”


	4. Not much of a brat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Again, I apologize for any mistakes, they are all mine. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

“Rick!” Daryl yelled from somewhere over him. Rick was on his knees in a rather slumped fashion instead of on his feet like just moments ago. 

The archer pulled him up by his armpits and moved him to lie on the couch. “Rick? Ya alright? Is somethin’ wrong with the baby?” Daryl’s voice took that high tone that wasn’t very manly but Rick still enjoyed hearing for it reminded him of the times when the hunter would yell at the TV because he still hadn’t quite figured out how to properly use that _damn thing_ called remote control.

“I’m just dizzy,” Rick managed to say when the room stopped spinning and he was flat on his back with Daryl’s poncho behind his head, bundled up to emulate a pillow. He’d missed that old, dirty thing.

“Seems like ya fainted for a couple seconds.” Daryl’s voice―now deep again― was thick with worry. “S’ happened before? D’ya tell the doc ‘bout it?”

Rick grimaced. He’d been especially reluctant to see Dr Greene after receiving the unsettling news and the confirmation through ultrasound, so no, he hadn’t told him much about anything after that first visit.

“I told him about the nausea, I haven’t been _this_ dizzy before.”

“Lie on yer side,” Daryl said and helped him on his left side, then without notice, grabbed Rick’s legs, lifted them and sat down on the couch pulling them across his lap. “Is that better?”

Rick took a moment to answer. This was so… _couply_ , and he was a bit taken aback by the bold gesture, but then again, Daryl Dixon didn’t go through life asking for much permission.

“Rick?” Daryl pushed, shaking his leg a bit.

The former sheriff jerked a nod, regretting the movement as it sent the room spinning again. “It’s fine. Better,” he lied. 

“Ya ate anythin’ today?”

Rick mulled over the question, reluctant to tell Daryl he hadn’t eaten anything other than a few crackers since the day before while he was on his protective/caring mode. 

“A bit.”

“Yer too fuckin’ skinny, Rick, ya need to eat,” Daryl scolded. “The baby needs it.”

“You don’ think I know that?” Rick gruffed, pressing his palms against his eyes, sensing a speck of irritation at the archer’s scolding for he didn’t know squat about what he’d been through these past months, what he was still going through. “It’s the nausea. I can barely keep anythin’ down.”

Daryl huffed. “Ya still gotta eat. If not fer ya fer the baby.”

“I _have_ been eating, as much as I can stomach, but today…” he sighed, “it’s gotten better, but today was bad again.”

“So s’like morning sickness or somethin’?” Daryl asked, playing with the hair in his chin, while keeping his other hand casually resting on Rick’s knee.

“Yeah, and I’ve suffered the severe version of it,” Rick muttered with distaste. Morning sickness... Why did they even call it that?  
Daryl shrugged in response. “So what _can_ ya eat?”

“I do better with fruit, crackers…” Rick said distractedly. He grimaced and sat up suddenly, pulling his legs underneath him and off of Daryl’s lap. “I have to get out of here. The smell of gutted animals ain’t helping.”

Daryl stood up right after him, outstretching his arms toward him in case he fainted again. “Well, lemme drive ya home.”

“It’s gonna pass. I’m not gonna cancel on Carl again,” Rick stated, reaching for the door and opening it. 

“Ya don’ gotta. I can pick ‘im up an’ take ‘im to yer place.”

“No, we were supposed to go somewhere else. He doesn’t like it there.”

“Well, he can suck it up, can he? Yer not feeling well, he’ll get it, especially if ya tell ‘im ‘bout the baby.”

Rick cringed at that. He was even more scared of telling Carl than he’d been about telling Daryl. 

He looked up at the archer warily. “What if he doesn’t take it well? Our relationship is strained as it is, I don’ think I can handle it gettin’ worse,” Rick said and pinching the bridge of his nose to hide the wave of nausea that hit him suddenly, though it passed quickly.

“He’s gonna h’ve to,” Daryl assured and started chewing on his bottom lip, “or I’ll make ‘im.”

Rick smiled and played along. “Alright, but try not to scare him too much.”

“Only a lil’ bit.” Daryl shrugged and went to the kitchen. “Gonna take ma’ crossbow to make a point.”

Rick was about to protest but the idea of Lori opening the door to Daryl Dixon and his crossbow was way too amusing.

Daryl drove him home and once there, the hunter followed him to the house to make sure he made it safely inside, for much that Rick said he was fine. The dizziness had almost completely gone away but for a light queasiness in his stomach, nothing he couldn’t handle. Although he still felt a bit shaky in the legs and the nausea could return any second, so he better wait there or else he’d end up vomiting the meager breakfast he’d managed to keep down in his car, in front of Daryl.

“He’s at Lori’s. Do you know where that is?” he asked, while collecting some plates and glasses scattered about the living room to put in the kitchen for washing later. He really ought to do some cleaning around the place. Daryl nodded. “I’m gonna give him a call and tell him you’re picking him up. Is that alright? Or you’d rather me going instead? I’m fine now.”

“Nah, s’too dangerous. Stay here, I’ll go get yer brat.”

“Don’t call him…” Rick paused when he saw the smirk on the archer’s face and smiled, shaking his head. “Thanks for this.”

“Anythin’ ya need. Be right back,” Daryl said and left. 

Rick closed the door with a sigh. He’d been trying so hard to appease the longing he felt for the older man that he’d actually started to convince himself he would be able to move on eventually. But now everything had changed.

He looked down at his belly and placed a hand on the swelling, smiling sadly. “That’s your dad. Hope you don’t get to miss him the way I have.”

 

―――――――――――――――

 

Daryl waited outside Rick’s former home for nearly ten minutes. Normally, it would’ve pissed him off, but his mind was too occupied. Rick was having his child and the idea hadn’t quite hit him yet. He did know his life was about to change forever, though.

Having kids was something he never even considered a possibility, which in itself was mind-blowing, but the fact he was having them with no other than Rick, the man he’d thought he’d lost for good but was still painfully in love with had him reeling. 

Ten more minutes passed and when repeatedly honking the horn did nothing but upset the neighbors dogs, Daryl got out of the car, carrying his crossbow on his back, and walked up to the house, taking the steps two at a time. It was a nice house, with a sort of homey look to it. 

It must’ve been hard for Rick to lose all this.

He leaned sideways to peek in thorough the window. The place looked empty, but there was loud music blasting from the inside, probably why they didn’t hear him. He knocked on the glass and Lori appeared through one of the rooms and went to open the door. She seemed quite shocked if her wide-eyed gaze was anything to go by.

“You―you are Daryl, right?” She asked in a rather curious tone as she inspected him, eyeing his crossbow warily.

“Hmm,” he nodded, biting his lower lip, “came to pick up yer boy. Rick ain’t feeling so good.”

“Oh? Well…then maybe they can meet some other time,” She suggested, “if he’s not well…”

“Nah,” he interrupted her, “he insisted. He’s got somethin’ to tell the kid.”

“Is he alright?” the worry etched in Lori’s face took him by surprise; her pretty eyes even wider.

“He’s fine,” he nodded and she sighed in relief, placing a hesitant hand over her chest. “Gonna call yer kid or what?”

“Yes, of course. Do―do you wanna come in?” Lori offered awkwardly.

“Nah, I’ll just wait in the car.”

Lori nodded and went back inside, leaving the door ajar. He stole one last peek then turned on his heels and returned to the car. 

When Carl came outside he approached the car with an angry strut. “Where’s my dad?” he asked as he leaned over the passenger window. “ _He_ was supposed pick me up.”

“Can’t. He’s sick. Get in the car. I’m drivin’ ya over.”

“Sick?” Carl asked.

“Yeah, so hump in. Let’s not keep ‘im waitin’”

Carl seemed about to protest but Daryl grunted. The kid sighed in defeat and got in. Daryl drove off.

“What does he have?” Carl asked after a few minutes of heavy silence.

“He’ll tell ya himself.”

Carl threw him a dirty look. “Why did he sent _you_? I could’ve come by myself. I don’t need his fuck-buddy to drive me…”

Daryl threw him a warning glance and Carl shut up. “Thought he said he was gonna call ya,” he grunted. This kid needed a good spanking.

“He did, but I didn’t answer. I figured he was going to cancel again. I didn’t want to hear his excuses,” Carl sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window. Daryl studied the kid’s downcast bearing before speaking again.

“Hey, brat, yer dad’s gonna to tell ya something important. And ya need to not be a brat ‘bout it, ya hear?” Daryl informed but was met by silence so he turned his full attention on the road ahead.

“He won’t," Carl mumbled after a while. 

Daryl shifted his gaze from the road to the kid. “Wha’d’ya mean?” he asked, tracing his beard with his free hand.

“He never tells me anything.”

Daryl’s interest peaked and he pulled the car over to the side of the deserted road. 

“What’re ya sayin’, kid?”

Carl threw him another dirty look. “I’m not a kid.”

“Right…yer what? 14?” Daryl wrongly guessed on purpose.

“I’m fifteen,” Carl huffed.

“That’s right, yer fifteen. And it’s time ya start acting like it. Yer dad’s goin’ to tell ya somethin’ important. And ya need to act yer age. No more actin’― like―a―brat shit. Yer dad needs yer support, now more than ever.”

Carl seemed a bit shocked at the way he was spoken to and kept silent for a moment, studying his hands with interest, then spoke again. 

“I want him to tell me stuff. I want him to trust me. But he still sees me as a kid. He never talks to me about anything.”

Daryl squinted. “He don’ talk to ya?”

“Not about anything important. He’s never mentioned mom or Shane… it’s like…he acts like none of that ever happened. But it did happen. I was there. And he just wants to hide from it.”

Daryl took a deep breath. “Ya said any of this stuff to ‘im?”

“I tried…” Carl huffed in frustration. “But he doesn’t listen to me.”

“Maybe ya should try again.”

“He closes off. And mom…he never asks about mom. She’s sad all the time…and he doesn’t give a _shit_.”

“Ya even know what happened, kid?” he practically growled. Who knew what picture Lori and Shane had painted him.

Carl looked him straight in the eye. “I know. I’m not trying to excuse mom or Shane…but Dad, he just…he just left after he found out. Mom couldn’t even explain herself. They haven’t talked once since it happened. We were supposed to be a family and he turned his back on us." 

“Well, yer dad’s hurt. All that stuff…It took a lot out of him.”

Carl looked down at his hands again, shaking his head. “I’m starting to think mom was right.”

Daryl didn’t know if he should be asking but he does anyway. “Right ’bout what?”

“She used to say dad didn’t care about us,” Carl said tightly, “…maybe she was right?”

“Hey, yer dad loves ya, kid,” he tried to assure but the kid shook his head.

“He doesn’t even talk to me. It’s like…he doesn’t even know how to be a dad anymore. And his only way of doing it is by keeping me from things.” Carl sniffed. “At the hospital…we were told he might never wake up...” Daryl eyed the teen warily. “Mom was devastated, but she didn’t show it, for my sake and dad’s. She never left his side. Shane told me I had to be strong, to be there for her. _He_ was there for us.”

“Kid, yer dad…”

“He’s hurting. I know. Has he said anything to you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Told me what happened.”

“But has he told you how he feels about it? What he feels now?”

“Nah. Doesn’t like to talk ‘bout it.”

“See? He keeps it all inside. I guess I’m not the only one he doesn’t trust.” 

Daryl knew Rick wanted to avoid the subject altogether for it hurt too much to talk about it, so he left him with his pain. He should’ve been more supportive. 

“Carl, ya need to know somethin’ ‘bout yer dad. He ain’t as tough as he tries to appear. And just ‘cuz he’s yer dad don’ mean he can’t fuck up. But he loves ya.” Carl eyed him with intent. “And he needs ya.”

The kid sniffed again. “You too?”

“He needs ya more, ‘sides, we’re not together anymore,” he said tightly and started the car again.

“Since when?” Carl looked at him with surprise.

“’Bout three months,” he grunted.

“Is that why he’s been avoiding me? Because he’s sad?”

“Nah, it’s somethin’ else,” Carl was about to speak but he cut him off, “But _he’s_ gotta tell ya.”

They reached Rick’s house and Daryl pulled over by the curve. Carl was about to open the door when he stopped him. “Don’ be too hard on him.” 

Carl nodded quietly and opened the door. “I won’t.”

“Yer not as much of a brat as I thought ya was,” Daryl said before Carl could close the door and the kid smiled in reply.

 

――――――――――――

 

Rick took a deep breath and opened the front door. Carl was there, looking at him, really looking at him.

“Hey, son,” he bent a bit forward to hug the teen and to his surprise, it was returned in earnest. “I tried to call you, didn’t you hear?” he asked as they parted.

“Hey, dad. Yeah, sorry, I didn’t hear it. Daryl said you had something to tell me,” Carl said impatiently, not even inside the house yet.

Of course Daryl had told him. He looked over Carl’s shoulder at said man who was leaning against the car with his arms crossed across his chest and curse him if he didn’t look handsome. Rick could do nothing to keep away the mental image of those muscled arms hidden under that leather jacket, silently cursing the cold weather for denying him the pleasure of seeing them. 

“Um, there’s stuff to make sandwiches in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll be right back,” he informed his son and went out to meet Daryl.

“Feelin’ better now?” The archer asked, giving him an up and down look that settled in his belly. “The baby?”

He nodded. “I’m better… _we_ are better.” Daryl smirked at that, flicking his eyes up to meet his; a happy glint in them. “Thanks. And thanks for bringing Carl.”

“s’what I’m here for.” 

Rick nodded and eyed the older man hesitantly then took a step closer. “You can stay a little while.”

“Hmm?” Daryl hummed, narrowing his eyes.

“You don’t have to go right away.”

Realization dawned on the hunter and he stated knowingly. “Ya want me there when you tell him.” 

Of course he would see right through him. 

Rick smiled bashfully. “I’m scared that he won’t like it.”

“I think ya should give the brat a bit more credit than that. He could surprise ya.”

Rick came back inside with Daryl strolling behind him. His ingrained anxiety had lessened noticeable now that the hunter was with him. But he still had to tell Carl.

“Carl?” he called and his son appeared from the kitchen, hungrily munching on a tuna sandwich. His mouth watered at the smell but he ignored it.

“You’re gonna tell me now?” his son asked excitedly.

Rick looked at Daryl and received an encouraging nod, then took a deep breath and sat down on the couch.

“Yes. Sit down.”


	5. A tiny slip

Rick’s hands were clasped in front of him to prevent his fingers from fidgeting. If anything it made it worse for his knuckles turned white for how tightly his fingers clung to each other. Carl hadn’t said a word in nearly five minutes and he was starting to freak out.

“Carl?” 

He got nothing, so he tried again after a few minutes. 

“Carl?”

This time, his son looked up to meet his eyes and uttered his first words in a while. 

“Is Daryl the…”

“Father? Yeah,” came Daryl’s grunted answer from his left, dragging both his and Carl’s attention to him. Rick was no expert in reading the archer; if he had they’d probably still be together, but the way the older man said those words― chest puffed out and chin up― it seemed to him Daryl was quite proud of his statement.

Carl flicked his eyes to the hunter, then back at his dad. He seemed a bit shocked and Rick feared that once that passed, it would be replaced by resentment. 

It wasn’t. If anything, Carl seemed to be coming to terms with it already, something Rick wasn’t expecting to happen so soon ―if at all.

“Are you showing yet?” 

There was a tinge of excitement in the teenager’s tone. Rick let out a sigh of relief. Carl was curious rather than disgusted or horrified and that could only be good. Daryl looked quite pleased when he stole a glance at him.

“Um, not a lot, but… yeah,” he replied, self-consciously looking down at his belly although the bump wasn’t visible in his hunched position and he’d conveniently chosen an oversized black sweater to wear.

“Can I…?” Carl slid to the edge of the couch hesitantly. “Can I feel it?”

Rick looked at Daryl and they both shared a tiny smile. 

“Of course you can,” he said, turning back to his son.

He stood up and Carl did as well. Hesitant hands reached for his belly and a tentative smile tugged at the corners of his son’s mouth that broke into a full grin when his hands made contact with the baby bump. The teen looked up, gazing back and forth between both of them, showing the same childish excitement Daryl had offered when he did the same for the first time.

“I’m a big brother.” 

“Yeah,” Rick smiled with pride as Carl’s hands kept feeling the bump.

“How long are you? Do you know what it is yet?” 

The ex-sheriff smirked at his son’s excitement. “Almost three months, too soon to know,” he replied. 

“Can I tell mom?” Carl asked suddenly. Rick cringed at the question. 

“Carl, I don’t think…”

“Fine,” Carl huffed and pulled his hands away, taking a few steps back and giving him the same accusatory look whenever he tried to bring up Lori. “But she’s gonna have to know sometime.”

“Kid’s right,” Daryl chipped in. Carl perked up at that, surprised to be backed up by the archer. 

Rick felt his defenses flaring up immediately as he looked at both his son and the archer’s waiting expressions. 

“It’s none of her business,” he hissed.

“Fine, I won’t tell her…or _Shane_ ,” Carl snapped and the ex-sheriff swore there was a malicious tinge to his son’s tone. The teen was testing him.

Rick looked at Daryl for support. The hunter was standing in the same position as before, arms crossed over his chest, adopting a seemingly reproaching stance as the older man stared down at him. 

_Were the both of them against him, now?_

“I’m not talking about this,” he hissed and escaped to the kitchen.

 

――――――――――――

 

Daryl sighed and ducked his head as the younger man stormed out of the room.

“See how he gets?” Carl whispered, exasperated at his father’s immature display. “He pisses me off!”

“Thought ya said ya wouldn’t be too hard on him,” he scolded in a hushed tone.

“I know, but…” Carl said dejectedly and sighed. “How am I supposed to hide this from mom?”

“Ya don’ gotta, he’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t? It’s been two years and he still can’t…” Carl huffed. “It’s useless,” the teenager said and made for the door to open it. “I’m out of here.”

Daryl sighed. These two had more problems than him and Rick.

He went after Carl as the kid exited the house and started strutting down the curve. “Hey, hold up.”

The teen stopped but didn’t turn to face him so he caught up to him and walked around him to meet the kid’s downcast gaze.

“Hey,” he said and Carl reluctantly met his eyes, “I know ya want ‘im to talk to ya, kid, but that ain’t the way. Ya can’t force it out of ‘im like that. Bringin’ up Shane ain’t smart either.”

“I know,” the teen nodded, looking down in shame. 

“Yer dad just gave ya some big news he was terrified of givin’ ya. Maybe talk ‘bout that some other time. Now is time to be supportive. Tell ‘im yer there for ‘im during this. It ain’t gonna be easy on ‘im and he’s gonna need ya.”

Carl nodded then hesitated. “You think…? Should I apologize?”

“Think it’ll help?” he grunted.

“Well, it’s not like _he’s_ going to do it,” Carl rolled his eyes.

“Nah, cuz he’s a stubborn son of a bitch,” Daryl said making Carl chuckle at the perfect description of his dad. The kid glanced at him, mulling over the idea and nodded. Daryl cocked his head toward the house. “Go.”

Daryl waited outside in the decaying porch to give them privacy, smoking a cigarette to pass the time, picking idly at the cracking white paint of the railing. It wasn’t much before Rick came outside and stood beside him, staring at the deserted street. He immediately flicked the half-consumed cigarette off into the street and waved the remaining smoke away. Rick chuckled.

“Thank you,” the younger man said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. They’d always had that at least― thousands of hours of comfortable silence.

“Don’ wanna hurt the baby,” he shrugged.

“Not that. Carl said you talked to him.”

Daryl nodded. “He apologized?” 

“Yeah,” Rick said and supported his weight against the railing. “It’s a first.”

“I didn’ tell ‘im to do it,” Daryl stated and looked at Rick. “He’s a good kid.”

“Still, thank you,” Rick offered a tiny smirk.

It was starting to get dark and the air was icy. Rick’s cheeks, nose and lips turned rosy pink and the archer’s chest constricted at the endearing sight. He wanted, _needed_ , to kiss those full lips like mad, but couldn’t. They weren’t his to kiss anymore.

With a sharp intake of breath he muttered. “Wasn’t ‘bout ya.”

Rick frowned and turned to face him. “What wasn’t about me?”

“Us? Was all me. I was afraid of showing ya who I was…who I am. Was afraid ya wouldn’ like it.”

“Daryl, you don’ have to―” Rick tried but the older man interrupted him.

“I wanted to be better for ya, but I wasn’t,” Daryl said dejectedly. “I could try―”

“I didn’t want you to be better, Daryl,” Rick blurted, cutting his speech. “I wanted you to be _you_. I didn’t _need_ to know about your past. I just wanted to get to know you, wanted you to trust me. But you never did. I couldn’t reach out to you…and then I lost you.”

“I trusted ya,” he said weakly, stealing a glance at Rick who appeared to be everything but convinced as he observed the archer intently.

“No, you didn’t.”

Rick was right. 

Daryl breathed out a laugh as realization dawned on him.

“What’s funny?” Rick prompted, sounding mildly irritated.

“Yer son said the same thing ‘bout ya,” he grunted in response. “Thinks ya don’ trust ‘im.” 

Rick visibly deflated. “He said that?”

Daryl nodded. “Ya gotta let the kid in, Rick. Ya know how it feels. Don’ do the same t’im as I did t’ya.”

Daryl had been restless all morning. He wanted to call Rick, go see him; anything to know how the younger man was doing. What he told him about Carl had affected him a great deal and now he felt guilty. But Rick needed to get his head out of his ass. This wasn’t about a failed relationship with some random redneck. This was about his relationship with his son.

Also, it was Christmas Eve. 

Carl was spending it with his mom as Daryl had suspected and Rick would be alone. 

Carol and Sophia were counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. He didn’t want to. But it was just dinner. Maybe afterward he could pass by Rick’s place for a bit.

When he entered Carol’s home the hunter was inundated by a wave of cozy comfort: mouth-watering scents and embracing warmth coming from the stony fireplace.

He wasn’t surprised when Sophia ran toward him and jumped on his arms to greet him, shrieking his name excitedly.

“Been good t’yer mom?” he asked as he put Sophia down.

“Yeah,” she nodded energetically. “Come! This is your seat. Come sit down!”

“Daryl! You’re here!” Carol called enthusiastically, her head looming from the kitchen door as he followed Sophia to the table. “We’re almost set. Ya can seat down, pookie.”

Daryl snorted at the nickname. “Need help?”

“No, I have everything under control here.”

“Don’ ya always?” he teased and sat down in _his_ seat.

Just seconds later Carol came from the kitchen carrying a giant platter of deer. The archer took it from her hands and planted it in the middle of the beautifully decorated table. 

“Well, look at you, pookie. Don’t you look nice,” she said sweetly and leaned down to peck him on the temple.

“You do, Daryl.” Sophia nodded with vigor from across the table. Daryl blushed and brought a hand to his nose to cover his face, smiling bashfully. “Stop.”

He had, in fact, made an effort to dress up. Not much more than a good scrub and clean clothes but nothing escaped Carol’s sharp eyes.

“So do you,” he returned the praise, for indeed Carol looked good.

“Aren’t you sweet?” She smiled brightly and a bit color spread across her cheeks. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

Dinner was great, more than great. In fact, he’d never tasted anything more delicious than Carol’s cooking in his entire life, to put it lightly.

They’d just had desert and Daryl felt delightfully full as he rested on the couch, but he still accepted Carol’s eggnog. 

“Anythin’ wrong? You’re quieter than usual,” Carol asked as she sat beside him on the flowery-patterned couch.

“Sorry,” he grunted. “Nothin’ wrong. The food was great. Thanks for inviting me.”

“We loved having you here,” the older woman chirped.

“Hmmm,” he hummed deep in thought again. 

“Daryl, c’mon, spill it. I know there’s something going on.”

Daryl met Carol’s clear blue eyes hesitantly. Should he tell her now? 

“Whatever it is, it’s weighing you down. It’ll make you feel better to talk about it,” she assured.

She was right. Besides, Carol was his friend; he should be able to confide her with such big news.

“Gonna be a dad,” Daryl rumbled.

Carol was taken aback, that’s for sure. Her eyes widened and she struggled with what to say and how to react to the news for a couple of minutes. 

“My ex-partner―” he tried to continue but Carol spoke over him.

“Thought you said there wasn’t anyone in your life…” she said in a slightly tight voice and Daryl didn’t know if she was upset or just surprised.

“There ain’t. There was, though. He was―”

“He?” She definitely sounded surprised now.

Daryl nodded. “Rick.”

“Rick?”

“He worked at the workshop. Dale hired ya to replace him.” 

“And he’s… _pregnant_?”

Her tone was odd and Daryl feared she’d be one of those nut cases that saw male pregnancy as the work of the devil.  
Nah, she couldn’t be.

The archer nodded. “Wasn’t planned, but ’m happy ‘bout it.”

Carol’s gaze settled on the floor in front of her as she figured out what to say next. “Are you gettin’ back together then?”

Daryl shrugged. “He don’ wanna.”

Carol pursed her lips. “But _you_ want to.”

“Yeah,” the archer nodded.

“For the baby or…?” She asked, narrowing her eyes, now staring at him intently.

“Mostly,” he nodded; running his fingers through is beard. “Still got feelings for ‘im.”

Carol casted her head down and took a deep breath then looked up smiling brightly and hugged him sideways. “Congratulations.”

He was a bit surprised with the gesture for Carol seemed… _off_. And that smile was a bit strained if anyone asked him.

“Ya alright?” he asked when they parted and followed Carol’s form as she started taking the remaining items from the table back to the kitchen. Daryl stood up and picked a few things to help her.

“Me?” She chirped with forced enthusiasm; her bright eyes moist with unshed tears. “I’m alright. Just a bit surprised is all.” 

Daryl wasn’t fooled. The news didn’t sit well with Carol at all.

“Don’ look like it,” he grunted once standing by her as she started scrubbing a plate with a sponge. She put it down and turned to face him, drying her hands with a dish cloth. 

“I’m happy for you, Daryl. I am. And I truly hope it works out for you. C’mere,” she stated firmly and offered a reassuring―and no doubt genuine this time― smile before hugging him tightly.

 

――――――――――――

 

Rick stood staring into the empty space where his Christmas tree should be. He couldn’t for the heck of it stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. That stale self-pity that’d rooted in ever since Daryl was no longer a part of his life which only grew in intensity in moments such as this; when the silence of his miserable life took hold of every corner of his empty shell of a home.

“It’s just as any other day. Get it together,” he reprimanded himself, irritated at his moping. 

He had a lot to be thankful for. The nausea was apparently completely gone now and he was starting to feel a lot better and to eat a lot more which obviously got him in a better mood. And there’d been no dizziness whatsoever. 

Besides, in spite of how he might feel, he wasn’t alone anymore, Rick thought as he rubbed his right hand over the small swell in his belly.

He looked down at his watch. It’d be officially Christmas in an hour and a half. 

Rick sighed and walked in the direction of his couch. So he was alone, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a blast. The former sheriff had plans for eating frozen pizza and watching TV all night, or keeping it as background company noise while roaming the internet. And hopefully he’d stay up long enough that he’d end up waking up at four in the afternoon the next day. If it were for him he’d sleep the day away but Carl was to come by at five. 

He turned the TV on but ended up turning it off soon enough for there were only Christmas movies on and Rick was set on pretending this was just another day. The former lawmen grabbed his laptop instead, suddenly very thankful he’d let Carl talk him into putting up internet. 

Googling _male pregnancy_ taught Rick a lot about his condition and the changes his body was going through, although he kept himself away from reading anything related to the delivery part just yet. 

He also learned some disturbing things, unfortunately. 

Pregnant males, uncommon as they were, became some sort of _attraction_ when people around them learned of their condition. Good thing he’d asked Dr. Green and the radiologist―in not so subtle terms― for their utmost discretion.

A knock on the door dragged Rick’s attention from the screen and he frowned at the door. 

Who on earth would come at this time on…was it Christmas already? Yes, it was definitely Christmas as he checked on his watch.

Groggily standing up, he walked up to open the door to find no other than Daryl standing on the other side. Of course it was him. No one else gave a fuck about him apart from him and Carl.

“What’re you doin’ here?” he asked hesitantly. 

Daryl stood rigid at his doorstep; arms stiff by his sides.

“Were ya asleep?” the archer muttered shyly.

“N―no,” Rick stuttered and gestured inside toward his couch and laptop. “I was just…doing nothing.”

“Sorry. Should’ve told ya,” Daryl rasped, running his free hand through his face. “Can I come in? Brought ya somethin’.”

“Okay,” he said, moving to the side to let the hunter in then closed the door. Just then Rick noticed the colorful package in the archer’s hand. A gift? Daryl didn’t _do_ gifts.

“Daryl… you shouldn’t have,” the younger man said when Daryl offered the package to him.

“Wanted to,” the archer affirmed and started chewing on his bottom lip. “’sides, s‘not exactly fer ya.”

Realization dawned on him and a warm, fuzzy feeling invaded him. He smiled at the older man. “Don’ you think it’s a bit early?”

“Nah, wanted to be the first to give her somethin’”

Rick narrowed his eyes. “Her?”

Daryl shrugged. “Got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

Rick grinned and looked down at the bag. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

The former sheriff opened the bag with eager hands and fished out the tiny pink outfit.

“Merry Christmas,” Daryl muttered, “…to both ya.”

“Daryl, this is…” Rick’s eyes watered a bit as he studied the baby garment and his throat became tight all of a sudden. He lifted his eyes to meet the cobalt orbs and ignoring every alarm his brain set off, the ex-sheriff crossed the distance that separated him from the hunter with slow but sure steps until his lips clashed against Daryl’s. Strong arms wrapped around the younger man’s back when Daryl surpassed the shock, bringing him impossibly closer as he was passionately kissed back. 

And Rick just let go.


	6. Opening up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New update! Remember it's unbeta'd. Sorry for the mistakes.
> 
> Tell me what you think. Comments are nice. Hope you enjoy!

Daryl was in heaven as Rick’s warm lips moved against his own, loving and familiar, yet new and exciting. He tightened his arms around his former lover’s back and traced the entire expanse of his back with thirsty fingertips, allowing himself to feel, smell and take in as much as he could before Rick had a chance to think straight. 

_Shit, he wanted Rick back so badly._

Not even two seconds had passed when Rick broke the kiss. Daryl wanted to keep holding him close, reluctant to let the wonderful moment vanish. Nevertheless, he allowed the younger man, who kept babbling out apologizes for his _mistake_ and looking at him with guilt-ridden eyes, to slip away from his embrace taking away Daryl’s dim flicker of hope with him.

“Daryl, I…” Rick brought his arm to his head, grabbing a handful of curls to pull on them lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Shit, man,” he huffed and ran a hand over his face in frustration. “Why d’ya h’ve t’do this?”

“Daryl, I’m sorry.”

“I meant…” Daryl sighed in defeat, “nothin’. Just―don’ go ‘bout kissin’ me unless ya truly mean it. I ain’t over ya, ya know?”

Rick stared at him in silence for a good few seconds then sighed and dropped his head in shame, chin propped against his chest. “Thing is…I meant to,” he confessed with remorse. “I wanted to kiss you…but it’s a mistake.” 

Daryl huffed, willing his mouth to stay shut and failing miserably. “The only mistake here is us not gettin’ back together. We gonna have a baby! And if that ain’t enough fer ya, I still fucking love ya, Rick!”

“Daryl, you know that’s not the problem,” Rick sighed; pinching the bridge of his nose, and it seemed like he wanted to say more but stopped himself before that could happen. “We already talked about this.”

“Well, I think it’s shit,” Daryl grunted and approached the younger man, crowding him against the couch. “It don’ gotta be the same as last time. We can start over.”

“Daryl, you might think that now, but you’ll change your mind,” Rick assured. “You’ll get overwhelmed and you’ll need to get out.”

“Nah, Rick. I’ve changed. I can―” he tried but Rick interrupted him.

“It’ll happen again, Daryl. You’ll leave and I’ll be a dick to you whenever I can. And we’ll hate each other again, and it won’t be just you and me who’ll suffer. Our child will be right in the middle of it.”

“Yer wrong,” he stated after staring at Rick in complete silence as both man measured each other. “I never hated ya.”

“I did…at times,” Rick said grimly and Daryl felt like he was being stabbed in the gut, “at least it felt as if at the moment. But it doesn’t matter because we are not getting back together, Daryl. I feel much better about you now than I felt for the whole second year of our relationship. Trust me. It’s better this way. We can make this work.”

And there it was; Rick’s definitive speech. If there was a slight chance for the ex-sheriff changing his mind before, he had just stomped all over it. 

“Fine,” he growled. It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all. But what could he do other than respect Rick’s decision? He couldn’t force the younger man to be with him. Besides, Daryl would do anything for Rick, even this, as painful as it was “We’ll make it work.”

Rick smiled and thanked him, then looked down at the garment still in his hand. “This is really cute,” he said, intent on changing the subject. “She’ll look really cute in it.”

“Let’s better not get used to call it a she. Could be a boy. I ain’t no goddamn psychic.”

Rick chuckled; the mood considerably lighter suddenly. “You’re right. But still…if it’s a boy, he’s gonna have to wear it. It’s his dad’s first gift after all.”

“Should’ve bought the yellow one,” he snorted. 

Rick smiled, holding his gaze for a good amount of seconds before ducking his head bashfully. 

“Do you want somethin’ to drink? Or somethin’ else maybe?”

“Nah, thanks. m’fine.”

“So, uh, did you do anything for Christmas Eve?” Rick asked, motioning for him to sit on the couch and sitting beside him. Daryl knew it was a question more to fill in the silence than to actually get an answer but Rick asked and he would answer. It was time they started working on their communication after all.

“I did. A friend invited me for dinner, came from there.”

Judging by the former sheriff’s perplexed expression he wasn’t expecting Daryl to say that. 

“You have a friend?” Rick asked, letting the surprise stream out through his voice, though he immediately regretted his words and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’ mean it like that… It’s great that you do.”

“Don’ mind,” he shrugged. “And yeah, she’s mah friend. Name’s Carol. Took yer place at the workshop. An’ she’s been there, ya know. She’s made…” he sighed, “…been without ya much easier.” Rick smiled sadly at that. “She gets me and I get her. She’s great.” 

Daryl had to pat himself on the back. That was more than he’d ever shared with Rick since they met and it was surprisingly easy to do it.

“That’s great, Daryl,” the former sheriff said after a deep breath. “I’m happy for you.” Then stood up and awkwardly changed the subject, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, hey, um…Are you busy tomorrow? Carl called. He’ll come by at five. He asked about you…wanted to know it you’d be here. He sounded like he wanted to see you,” Rick said nervously, then paused.

“And…” Daryl said, encouraging Rick to keep going.

“I know this is weird…and maybe too much to ask of you, but if you’re not busy…and only if you want to…maybe you could… come over? I’ll make dinner.”

“Sure I can,” Daryl smirked and feeling awfully confident, spoke again, “’m visiting Merle t’morrow but I’ll be done by then.” 

There was no reason for him to hide Merle’s existence anymore. 

“Merle?” Rick asked curiously. 

“He’s mah brother,” Daryl replied after a heavy pause.

“You don’t have a brother,” Rick stated, side eyeing him skeptically and then paused, deadpanned. “You have a brother.”

The archer nodded. “He’s mah older brother. Only family I got.”

Rick stared at him agape then shook his head. “All this time and you didn’ tell me you have a brother? Why, Daryl?”

Daryl shrugged. “Same reason I didn’ tell ya ‘bout nothin’. Cuz Merle’s blood and Dixon blood ain’t nice blood. He’s what I’s s’posed to be and where I’s s’posed end up.” 

“And where is that?” Rick asked cautiously.

“Prison.”

Rick caught his gaze. “And you think you’re like that?”

He grunted. “S’who I am…or was. A nobody, a drifter, following Merle around lookin’ fer trouble just cuz there was nothin’ better t’do.” 

Rick swallowed thickly. “Why are you tellin’ me this now?”

“Hey, we ain’t gettin’ back together, ya said. Figured I’d be honest with ya for a change. Can’t lose ya if ya ain’t mine.”

Rick watched him for a couple of seconds then sighed, shaking his head. “Jesus, Daryl.”

“Told ya was nothin’ worth hearing,” Daryl said self-deprecating, “n’ I knew ya wouldn’ like it, but I figured ya ought t’know who the father of yer child is.”

“You’re not like that, Daryl,” Rick said, placing a comforting hand over his own and staring intently at him. “Maybe your brother led you to do those things before, but you aren’t like that, not really.”

“How would you know? Ya don’ even know me,” the archer grunted, fighting the urge to snatch his hand away from Rick’s, feeling undeserving of such comfort, but the rest of him wanted to take anything he could from the man he loved. Any touch, any look; any form of closeness.

Rick squeezed Daryl’s hand a bit before speaking softly. “I don’t need to know your past to know you’re a good man.” 

The younger man sounded so certain that Daryl felt enthralled to believe the words, but too many years of toxic shit coming from his father, Merle and himself prevented them from fully sinking in. 

He didn’t say anything so Rick kept talking.

“You have a respectable job, one you’re really good at; an honest living. And you have a child on the way,” the ex-sheriff said, sporting a smile and cocking his head to find Daryl’s evasive eyes. “You’re not a nobody.”

Daryl hummed then chuckled softly. “Wanna know how I got that respectable job in the first place?”

Rick held his gaze and nodded, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Was out with Merle and some other guys, we was pissed drunk on moonshine and Merle thought it’d be a good idea to steal a car from Dale’s workshop. Said I couldn’t do it. I said I could. Y’know I’m an asshole when I’m drunk,” he looked at Rick and received a smirk from the younger man. “So I took the challenge and stole the damn thing. Woke up in the car next day with a hell of a hangover behind an abandoned barn. I don’ know how I managed but I didn’ crash it. But I still felt awful 'cuz Dale was nice t’me. One of the few people that didn’ saw me as trash. So I went back to return it that same morning. The cops were there and they handcuffed me. Dale saw me, said he wouldn’ press charges and they let me go. Dale didn’ let me off the hook though and forced me to work for ‘im fer a week to pay ‘im back. Knew what I could do with cars. Said it was a probation week. That if I did good he’d hire me. I did mah week and was gonna leave, but Merle got in for drugs right after. The dumbass was holdin’ meth when he shoplifted with a friend. They were wasted too so the cops caught ‘em easily.” Daryl took a deep breath. “Without Merle tellin’ me havin’ a stable job that paid so little was for pussies, I stayed with Dale. He hired me…and that was it. First time I decided somethin’ fer myself.”

Rick was staring at him intently and he shifted under the weight of that stare. He figured the younger man hadn’t liked the story one bit and he’d be asked to leave, until Rick cracked up a smile.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fer what?”

“Your brother, sounds like he had a powerful hold on you.”

Daryl nodded. “He’s a dumbass but he ain’t bad. Dad just fucked ‘im up.”

Rick looked at him warily, afraid to ask but visibly curious. 

“He used to beat our asses badly,” he explained. “Was an even bigger dumbass than Merle.”

A heavy silence fell after that, until Rick lifted it.

“And those scars…?”

Daryl nodded. “Same stupid story. Dad would come home pissed drunk. I was the only one there. He’d take his belt off and lashed it down on me. Or he’d just punch me or kick me bruised.” 

“Daryl…” Rick said in a strangled voice. He turned to look at the younger man to see his blue eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Hey, s’fine,” he comforted the now trembling man. “Is past.”

“Thank you,” Rick after a shaky breath.

He frowned. “Fer what?”

“For telling me that.”

“Ya don’ think I’m trash?”

“You know…” Rick said as he pulled his hand back and placed on his belly, “I never imagined anythin’ like this would ever happen. Can’t say I’d say yes if anyone had asked me if I wanted it, but now that it’s happened, I can’t imagine anyone else being the father but you. I wouldn’t want anyone else. So no, I don’t think you are trash, Daryl.”

He looked up at Rick finding nothing but honesty in those blue eyes. Daryl’s throat constricted and it became hard to breathe. “I don’ know if I’ll be good at it,” he managed out.

“Hey,” the younger man cocked his head, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Can I?” Daryl asked, stealing a glance at the former sheriff’s belly. Rick offered a warm smile. 

 

―――――――――――

 

“Of course,” he said and rested his back against the couch. The archer’s strong hands settled on top of his belly with such gentleness it reminded Rick of the way Daryl used to worship his body during sex. And he yearned to have those hand on his skin again. “Wait,” he said and Daryl pulled his hands back, allowing Rick to lift his sweater and shirt, baring his belly completely. 

Daryl looked from his face to his belly, smirking teasingly. “Tryin’ t’seduce me, Grimes?”

“Y―You’ll feel it better this way,” he stuttered, unsuccessfully trying to hide his true intentions and the burning in his cheeks.  
The archer’s hands covered his belly in its entirety and the warmth engulfed him. Daryl’s hands were always warm. He smiled when he stole a glance at the older man’s face. Rick had never seen him so happy before and he couldn’t resist the urge to place his hands on top of Daryl’s.

They’d make it work.

 

The next day, he was still reeling over all the things Daryl had told him, mostly the Merle part. He’d figured Daryl had been abused as a child a long time ago. 

The extent the older man went to hide his past and who he was for fear of rejection was surprising and Rick understood him better now. But it still hurt that the archer trusted so little in him. Did Daryl actually believe he’d run off as soon as he learned he used to steal while drunk or that his brother was in prison? He couldn’t care less. 

Daryl arrived before Carl; the sound of his motorbike bringing back both good and bad memories, mostly good though, so he smiled.

“Hey, how’s Merle.”

Daryl grimaced. “Tired t’be in jail. Haven’t told ‘im ‘bout the baby. Not sure if I should.”

Rick paled a bit at that. He didn’t want anyone else to know, but he could hardly prevent Daryl from telling his brother, so he just nodded. 

“How’re ya feelin? The baby alright?” the archer asked, thankfully changing the subject, as he followed Rick back to the kitchen. 

“Everything’s fine but,” Daryl’s head perked up at the pause. “I think I’m starting to have… _cravings_.”

“Anythin’ weird yet?” Daryl asked as he snacked on some cheese from the counter. 

“A bit,” Rick said and opened the top counter to get the bread. “I’ve been here for an hour trying to figure out exactly what I want to eat.” 

Daryl snorted and ate another slice. “Any luck?”

He nodded. “I want a sandwich.”

“Which kind?” 

“Tuna.”

“That’s it?” 

Rick shook his head. “Tuna…with baked potatoes…all mashed up…in a sandwich. With orange juice and lots of mustard,” he grimaced. “I hate mustard.”

“That’s messed up,” Daryl offered.

“I know…” Rick nodded then frowned. “Hey, you’re one to talk. Haven’t you had a taste of every species living in those woods?”

“S’fer survival,” the hunter argued.

“You can buy meat at the store, Daryl. This isn’t the apocalypse.”

“Yet. m’ training my stomach for it,” Daryl said casually and Rick chuckled. “So… ya got everythin’ ya need?” 

Rick shook his head, pouting. “I don’t have mustard nor orange juice…”

“Alright,” Daryl said and went for the door. “Be right back.”

“What―Daryl, you don’t have to…” he went after the older man to stop him.

“Hey, said I’m here fer everythin’ ya need. And ya need Mustard and OJ, so I’ll be right back.”

“Dar―” he never got finished that for Daryl was already gone. He didn’t get to ask for ice-cream either.

The sound of Lori’s car pulling over by the drive way made every muscle in his body tense up. He couldn’t face her. He didn’t want to see her. Thankfully, she always drove off as soon as Carl was out of the vehicle.

Carl knocked on the door and he went to open it.

“Hi, Dad, Merry Christmas,” Carl said and hugged him then immediately hunched down to put his hands on his belly. “Hey, there. Merry Christmas to you too.”

Rick smiled at his son. “Merry Christmas, Carl. Did you get everything you wanted?”

"Yes! Thanks for the phone dad!” Carl chirped and hugged him again. “How did you know? Did you talk to mom?”

He nodded. “Through e-mail.” 

“Oh?” Carl looked disappointed. “Thanks, dad. I know how much you hate talking to her.”

“I don’t―”

“I got something for you,” Carl interrupted him and took off his backpack and opened it, extracting a packaged present. “It’s from me… and mom. She helped me choose it.”

“Carl―”

“We paid it half and half so you have to accept it.”

He stared at Carl for several seconds then let his head drop and sighed. “Thank you,” Rick said and opened it. It was a jacket, a warm jacket.

“Mom thought you’d need it. She knows you never buy stuff for yourself so she figured you still had your old jacket.” 

He still had that old jacket. Rick felt flooded with emotion and had to fight the urge to cry. “Thank you. Tell her…thank you.” 

“I will,” Carl smiled. Thank god for teens short concentration spam for he wasn’t sure he could hold his son’s gaze any longer. “Is Daryl here?” his son asked suddenly and went to the kitchen to assault the fridge. 

“He was…but he went to the store,” he replied, leaving the jacket on a chair. “You want anything? I can call him if you want.”

“Um…no,” Carl shrugged.

“You don’t want ice-cream?” Rick asked in a hope-filled tone. _He really needed ice-cream._

“Isn’t it a bit cold for ice-cream?” Carl squinted.

“Really? Just me?”

“I could eat if there was any…” Carl said, finally catching on and jumped for how quick his dad snatched the phone from the kitchen counter to call Daryl.

“Daryl? Are you still at the store?” he said when the archer picked up.

“Need anythin’ else?” Daryl asked with a hue of humor to his tone.

“I don’t _need_ ice-cream,” he complained childishly. “But don’t come back if you don’t have it.”

Daryl snorted on the other end. “I’ll get yer ice-cream.”

“Cookies and cream,” he huffed and hung up before Daryl could tease him.

After dinner, and after Rick had eaten his mashed potato-tuna-mustard sandwiches ―of which Daryl ended up making himself one because he absoultely loved them― and almost half an ice-cream pot (Daryl got him two), Carl asked Daryl if he could teach him how to shoot a crossbow. Rick watched them from the door to the backyard, keeping the warm jacket his son and Lori had gotten him tight around his body.

They were outside in spite of the cold. Daryl was patiently instructing the teen on the right posture to take on, using his own body to show him, then going to Carl who was holding the crossbow and placing his fingers where they should go, lifting his arm or straightening his back. 

Rick smiled at the view. It was the second chance they’d gotten to be in the same room for more than five minutes and they seemed to be getting along just fine. He could tell this was something his son had wanted to ask of the archer for a while. And that’s when it hit him, what a selfish prick he’d been all this time. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d done it on purpose or not, but with hindsight, Rick realized that the idea of Carl not liking it there was something completely made up by his twisted mind. It was him who hadn’t wanted to meet up with Carl there, always somewhere else, never where Daryl could’ve barged in unannounced. He was starting to think the idea of him and Daryl together not sitting well with the teen had also been made up by him for Carl had never told him anything in regards to that; nothing bad at least.

“Da hell, brat? Thought ya said ya’d never shot one before.” Daryl’s gruff voice brought him back to the now. Carl had shot an arrow inside the white circle painted in one of the trees as an improvised target.

His son laughed wholeheartedly, actually laughed, out loud. Rick hadn’t heard that sound in a while. “Pay up.”

“Damn. Yer brat’s givin’ me a run for ma money, Grimes.” 

He looked at Carl, half expecting the teen to feel offended for being called a brat but he just looked smug as he held his palm up for Daryl to place whatever money they’d bet on.

Rick felt his heart swell with happiness as he smiled at the pair. “Yeah, he’s good like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read and for all the support in kudos and comments. Y'all so great!!


	7. A major fuck-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay! Finally. Hope you enjoy. ;D
> 
> Let me know what you think. Comments and kudos are always welcome.
> 
> Don't forget that this story is unbeta'd.

After Daryl left, Carl informed him he would be staying the night. First time he’d done that. 

What Daryl had told him the other day about Carl, had been circling his head ever since and now was the perfect opportunity to talk to his son―to really talk to him.

“Carl,” he said after doing the dishes and sitting down heavily on the couch, next to his son. 

“Yep?” Carl asked without lifting his eyes from the screen of his laptop. 

“We need to talk,” he said and turned toward the teen.

This caught his son’s attention for he removed his gaze from the screen and fixed it on him. “About what?”

Rick looked down at his hands and took a deep breath before speaking. “About mom.”

“Seriously?” Carl chirped in surprise, shutting down the laptop and placing it on the coffee table before shifting his full attention to his dad.

Rick nodded, lifting his eyebrows. “I understand you need to talk about this.”

“And you?” Carl asked with a certain edge to his tone. 

Rick bit his lip and rubbed his hands together nervously. He nodded. “Yes,” he forced out, “I _also_ need to talk about it.” Because maybe he did, he just didn’t want to.

Carl smiled encouragingly. He seemed happy that his dad was finally acting like a grown up and facing reality. It made Rick feel like the biggest of failures.

“So…what do you wanna start with?”

“Is there anything you want to ask?” Rick asked warily.

Carl looked down at his clasped hands, mulling over his question then spoke hesitantly. “Why did you just leave us when you found out, instead of trying to fix it? Didn’t you love mom?”

_Us_. 

“Carl, I love you. You know that.” 

Carl nodded but kept silent, waiting for a more complete answer. It was a loaded question and the teen seemed to have been   
thinking about it for a while. He had to answer honestly, for much it hurt him to do so. 

Scratching his stubbled cheek Rick sighed. “I loved your mom, Carl. I probably still do. If I hadn’t, it would have been easier to look past it and try to move on. It wouldn’t have hurt as much as it did,” Rick said. “I know it sounds stupid but I felt like they were against me; my wife and my best friend. I felt too betrayed and I needed to get away from them.”

The teen took a deep breath. “But if you loved her…maybe talking about it could’ve fixed things. You didn’t talk. You just left and she didn’t get to explain―”

“Explain?” He frowned. 

Carl nodded. “She was scared, dad. We both were. The doctors told us you might never wake up and Shane took care―”

“I don’t think you should speak for them, Carl,” Rick interrupted him, rubbing his temple. 

“But you didn’t let them. You didn’t let mom tell you why she did it.”

Rick stared at his son. He could feel his defenses flaring up again but did his best to soothe them. He couldn’t keep sweeping this matter under the rug. 

“I didn’t think she had anything to explain. It was pretty clear to me,” he said, scratching his eyebrow. “I mean, what excuse could there be for them to do that?”

Carl kept quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. “They’re not together, dad.”

Rick didn’t know that. He assumed they’d been together ever since. Without him in the way, they were free to do as they pleased, whenever and wherever they wanted. He used to obsess over it, but now, it didn’t make a difference.

“Mom’s sad all the time,” Carl continued. “She misses you. _We_ miss you.”

He’d feared the conversation would lead to this. 

Rick hesitated and clasped his hands together. “Carl…this can’t be fixed.” 

“Only if you don’t want it to be fixed,” his son countered back.

“You are a man now, Carl…” His son perked up at that. “And you need to understand that some things are better left alone. Lori and I…it can’t be. Trust is very important in a relationship and she broke that trust. I don’t want you to think badly of your mom but what she did…I never imagined she could do something like that to me. It can’t be fixed, Carl.”

“I don’t mean you getting back together,” Carl said in a slightly patronizing tone. “I just…I wish you’d at least get along. This thing, with you not being able to even see each other, I hate it. I even had to exchange the divorce papers between you two. It sucked.”

Rick swallowed thickly. He’d explicitly told Carl not to open the envelope and to deliver it to Lori as it was. 

“You weren’t supposed to read them.”

“Of course I read them, dad,” Carl scoffed.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position, son. Should’ve handled myself,” he regretfully said.

“Dad?” Carl looked at him. “Why did you settle just for the weekends? I’m sure you could’ve gotten a better deal.”

Rick’s breath caught in his throat and his stomach churned. “Carl…I did that for you. I―I didn’t think that what happened between your mom and I should affect you more than necessary. I didn’t want to make you leave your home.” He paused, trying to steady his trembling hands and swallowing the knot in his throat. “I thought it was for the best…”

Carl sighed sadly. “It seemed to me like you didn’t want anything to do with me either.”

It’d wrecked him, to know he wouldn’t be seeing Carl every day, but Rick had honestly thought it was the best for the teen. It was bad enough _he_ had to leave his home, but to drag Carl along… it wouldn’t have been fair. He now realized his terrible mistake.

Rick’s eyes started to water and it became hard to breathe. He’d failed his son and had been too selfish to even realize it. 

“Please, don’t ever think that, Carl,” he said tightly and holding his son’s gaze firmly. “I love you more than anything in this world and I would do _anything_ for you. Do you understand?” Carl nodded. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, but it’s not why I did it. I only did it because I thought it was what you wanted.”

Carl sighed. “Maybe next time you should ask me.” 

Rick grimaced. “I’m sorry, Carl.”

“It’s okay, dad. Just because you’re my dad doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes,” Carl said reassuringly then chuckled. “Daryl said that.”

Rick allowed himself a watery smile. “He did, huh?” Carl nodded. “Come here,” he said and grabbed Carl by his shoulder’s pulling him closer to plant a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m proud of you, son. And you are more mature than I’ll ever be.”

“Probably,” Carl chuckled as he pulled away. 

He held the teens gaze firmly. “I’ll arrange something with your mom. We’ll spend more time together from now on. I promise.”

“I’d like that.”

There was a pause as they both smiled at each other, before Carl spoke again, sporting a tiny grimace. “Dad…I’d still like her to know I’m going to be a brother.”

Rick sighed, mulling over his sons words. In his innocence, Carl probably didn’t take into account how knowing about the baby could hurt Lori, but he was still right; she had to know about it sooner or later.

“I can’t stop you from tellin’ your mom. If you feel like you need to do it then it’s your choice, son.” 

The teen seemed relieved by that, if that bright smile was anything to go by. At least he’d done something right, Rick thought. 

Carl took a deep breath. “Will you at least think about talking to mom?” 

Rick bit his lower lip as he studied his son’s hopeful expression. “I won’t make any promises, but yeah, I’ll think about it.”

 

――――――――――――

 

“You haven’t told me how Rick is doing,” Carol said, holding his beer while he cleaned the grease off his fingers with a rag. Her car was making a funny noise, according to her, so he’d offered to have a look at it.

“Um…he’s fine,” he said vaguely.

“What’s the um for?” she frowned.

“Nothin’,” Daryl grunted and took the can from Carol’s outstretched hand, drowning its remaining content in one go and giving the empty can back to her. “Thanks.”

Carol looked at him expectant. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah, it’s just… Carl said that male pregnancies can be more complicated than female pregnancies an’ he should get check-ups more often or somethin’ but Rick’s havin’ none of it.”

“And Carl is…”

“Rick’s son,” he replied, lighting up a cigarette. “He’s been reading stuff in the internet.”

“Has he said why he’s refusing to go, maybe he has his reasons?”

“Nah, I mean, there’s like a bunch of tests he hasn’t even done yet and he don’ wanna do them.”

“Well…as long as he’s feeling fine there’s no urgency, I guess. But he still should get a blood test to check his levels and see if he needs to take anything.”

“Ya think?”

“Yes,” Carol replied firmly. "He should take care of himself.”

Daryl chewed on his nail. “Gonna try t’ bring it up again t’morrow.”

Carol seemed please about it and threw him a bright smile. “So when do I get to meet him?”

 

 

“It’s just a blood test, Rick, it ain’t someone shoving their finger up yer ass,” he said, following Rick to the kitchen making a quick scan with his eyes over the younger man’s body before it hid behind the counter.

The baby bump was getting more noticeable each week and Daryl couldn’t keep his eyes from it. His baby was growing and it felt a lot more real now that he could clearly see it. Plus, Rick looked gorgeous like that and Daryl couldn’t help but want to wrap his arms around him from behind and put his hands over his belly, or wonder what the younger man looked like naked, to his utter shame.

Rick grimaced. “Don’t even go there, Daryl.”

“Carol says ya should do it. To check if everything’s fine and if ya need t’ take vitamins or some shit.”

Rick looked up at him frowning. “You told her?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

Rick sighed heavily. “Why?” 

“Why da hell not?” Daryl grunted.

Rick huffed and rubbed his face with both hands. “Because I don’t want people knowing about this.” 

Daryl chewed on his lower lip, staring at the younger man curiously. “n’ how d’ya s’pose to do that? Yer gonna get bigger, Rick, in case ya didn’ know. Or yer planin’ on hidin’ here till it’s born?”

“That’s…one way,” Rick said weakly then sighed. “Look, I want to at least keep it contained. I don’t want it to spread like wildfire.”

“Hey, Carol is cool either way. She probably hasn’t told anyone.”

“Probably…” Rick sighed, shaking his head.

“I can ask her t’ keep it t’ herself if that’s what ya want,” he grunted.

“Please,” the former sheriff nodded.

“I’ll do it if ya promise t’get a blood test done.” 

Rick scowled, tilting his head. Daryl smirked.

“Fine,” the younger man sighed in defeat. “Sugar?” 

Daryl looked up at that, face slightly flushed. “What?”

“Do you want sugar in your coffee?” Rick explained.

“Um…sure. Two―”

“…and a half, I know,” Rick cut him in, sporting a tiny smile on his beautiful face.

Daryl smirked, inching a bit closer and subconsciously puffing up his chest and straightening his shoulders. Rick’s eyes traveled from his face to the archer’s chest then to each broad shoulder while he bit his lower lip. Daryl smiled at the blush that appeared on the younger man’s cheeks when he was caught looking.

“I―I talked to Carl,” Rick stuttered, his eyes leaving the hunter bashfully and settling back on the coffee mugs. He pushed Daryl’s into his hands. 

“Yeah?” Daryl said, taking the offered mug. “How’d it go?”

Rick sighed. “I found out that I’ve done a horrible job as a father so far.” 

Daryl snorted. “Can’t be that bad, the kid don’ hate ya.”

“True,” Rick said and paused, looking down then up at him intently. “Thank you.”

“Fer what?” Daryl said and blew on his coffee.

“It wouldn’t have happened if not for you.”

“I didn’ do nothin’, just listened t’im,” Daryl grunted.

It was probably true, but just listening to someone could do wonderful things and it was one of the many things Rick had failed to do with his son. Daryl was good at it. He terribly missed that about the archer, to be utterly listened to and understood with zero judgment in between.

“Yeah, you did. It’s the first time I talk to him like that and I feel a lot closer to him now. _You_ prompted me to do it…so thank you.”

Daryl looked at him, biting his lower lip and offered a shy, jerky nod. “Yer welcome.”

 

――――――――――――

 

The archer paced the small office from side to side. Rick was sitting in one of the two chairs. Sighing, he sat down beside the younger man and rested his left foot over his right knee; foot moving incessantly and hands restless as he cracked his knuckles one by one then over again. Rick’s hand settled on top of his to stop his fidgeting.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed in response and stood up again. Just as he was about to inspect the weird looking cactuses by the window sill, the door opened and closed as Dr Greene came back.

“Please Mr. Dixon, have a seat,” the older guy said and sat down in his chair behind the desk. 

He eyed the elder man warily but complied with his request, sitting heavily back on the chair. 

“You got an ultrasound taken, right?”

“Yes. Here,” Rick said and handed the small folder to the doctor along with the envelope carrying the blood test results.

Dr. Greene took it and inspected it carefully. Then, he opened the envelope and read the contents in deep concentration. Daryl stomach churned for every second the older man took.

“Any discomforts lately; nausea, back pains, fatigue?”

“No, I haven’t been nauseous in weeks. I’ve been a bit tired though, but that’s all,” Rick answered tightly.

“Everything seems to be in order. Your iron is a bit low, though. I’m gonna prescribe you a daily folic acid and iron supplement; it should be enough to get your levels back to normal,” the elderly man informed as he scribbled down something on a paper and both men let out a sigh of relief. 

Daryl cleared his throat. “So how’s it gonna be when the baby comes? I mean…how does it work―his body.” 

Rick threw him a glare but the question was already out in the open. 

“These are the things I could’ve told you the first time you were here, Rick, but you ran out on me.” 

Daryl chuckled. 

“Well, I was shocked and scared, and a huge part of me thought you’d gone insane, so there’s that,” Rick explained.

Dr Greene chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“Everythin’ ya can tell us,” Daryl stood up and started pacing again. “How it came to happen, for starters. Like, how does it even work in males to get pregnant?”

“I’ve been reading stuff internet, you don’t need to―”

“I haven’t read shit. I wanna know,” he grunted, interrupting an uncomfortable Rick.

“Well, first you have to have a male with the internal equipment needed for conception.”

“Like a uterus?” Daryl asked, ignoring Rick’s scowl.

Dr Greene nodded. “And ovaries and a cervix. It’s caused by a condition called Persistent Müllerian duct syndrome―” 

“Come again?” Daryl gruffed out.

“Persistent Müllerian Duct Syndrome, in which the male fetus is unable to respond correctly to the hormones responsible for male genitalia development and female internal genitalia degeneration―”

“I’m not underdeveloped,” Rick hissed. Daryl had to hide a chuckle at the younger man’s reaction.

“No one is saying that, but you didn’t respond to the internal female genitalia degeneration part. It’s why you have them fully developed and functional.”

“Okay…so I’m a freak.”

“Rick, you are not a freak. I like to think about this condition as plain human evolution. Many other health professionals are starting to embrace the same idea. Hundreds of male babies are born a year with this condition in the US only. Most of them are identified in their early months of life which is when they get a hysterectomy to ‘correct the problem’. But there’s some, such as you, that were never identified as babies and live completely normal lives without even knowing about their condition and are perfectly capable of carrying a child. However, most of them never even find out.”

Rick let out a drawn out sigh. Daryl placed a comforting hand on the younger man’s thigh, noticing just now how much this whole thing weighed on him. He squeezed lightly. 

Dr Greene continued. “Most males with your condition possess a channel through where you conceived and through where the baby should be born―theoretically speaking. However, C-section is always the best option. There is no guarantee your body will know what to do during labor.”

 

They left the Doctor’s office quickly―Rick practically ran out of there―so they reached the car in no time. Daryl drove them toward the drugstore.

“You don’t get it, Daryl. Look at this,” Rick held out a paper, “all these other tests I’m supposed to undergo. I don’t want to get picked at like I’m some sort of medical aberration. It was bad enough getting that ultrasound…you should’ve seen the look they gave me.”

“Yer not a freak, Rick. And ya don’ gotta do them if ya don’ wanna,” Daryl said, trying to reassure the former sheriff. 

Rick ignored him and kept on freaking out. “And how am I supposed to do it when the baby comes? I was applying for a job back at the station when I found out, but I can’t go to work there looking like this. ”

Daryl stopped the car in the parking lot. “Hey, I said I’ll help ya out, didn’ I? And not because you need it, but because we both made that baby. It’s half my responsibility. Ya don’ need to worry ‘bout nothin’.”

Rick was about to protest but the archer got out of the car before he could say anything. They both walked inside the drugstore in silence.

“Da hell does it say here?” Daryl asked and pointed to a scribbled line on the recipe. 

Rick squinted, trying to discern what it said. “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying much attention. They should know, though,” he said, meaning to the people behind the counter. “Look Daryl, you don’t have to pay for this.”

“Hey, again, we both did that,” he whispered, pointing to Rick’s stomach. “Yer already carrying it so it’s only fair I take care of everything else.”

Rick seemed a bit reluctant but nodded anyway. 

“Rick?” a voice said from behind them and Daryl saw how all color left Rick’s face. 

It was Shane. 

“I―I’ll wait for you in the car,” Rick whispered and turned on his heels, avoiding looking at the other man completely.

“Come on, Rick,” Shane called, following his former friend out of the store and toward the car. “How long are you gonna avoid this conversation for?”

Daryl followed closely; ready to attack if need arose. 

Rick stopped abruptly just before he reached his car and turned to hiss at the younger man. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“C’mon, buddy, you can’t keep running from me forever. This town’s way too small,” Shane boasted out.

“I’m not running from you,” Rick huffed in anger.

“That’s bullshit an’ ya know it, Rick. Lori ain’t doin’ well, man, Carl ain’t either…it’s time fer ya t’ get yer shit together.”

“Don’t you ever talk about my family again , my son!” Rick roared and shoved Shane violently, forcing the younger man to take a couple of steps back. Daryl hovered close to prevent anything from going down where it shouldn’t, but go down it did when Shane returned Rick’s shove with brutal force, slamming him against the car. 

Daryl saw red.

His fist connected with Shane’s jaw with so much strength the bulky man went tumbling to the ground. 

“Ya okay? Ya hurt?” he said as he fussed over Rick, placing a protective hand over the man’s belly. Rick didn’t answer; he just glared at Shane over his shoulder. Daryl turned to look at him too in case he decided to attack him.

Shane threw him a menacing, ugly smirk as he stood up straight into an arrogant stance; his dark gaze shifting from Rick to Daryl then back again. “So it’s true what they say at the station. You’re fucking a dude now, Ricky?”

“Ya ever touch ‘im again, I’mma ram an arrow through yer skull!” he hissed, trying to contain Rick at the same time for he was still blinded by anger and wanted to launch himself at Shane. 

Shane chuckled. “Think it wise to punch and threaten a police officer, Dixon? I know your brother. You better be careful or you’ll end up bunk buddies with him.” 

He ignored the remark and turned toward a fuming Rick and was barely able to catch him before he launched himself at Shane again and had to use his full body weight to hold him against the car, careful not to put pressure on the baby. 

“Shit, Rick, calm down. Ya can’t do this. Ya know ya can’t,” he huffed, unsuccessfully trying to get through to Rick’s out-of-control self. 

“Let go of me!” the younger snapped and tried to push Daryl off. His blue eyes dark as they fixed on Shane and his whole body shook with anger. 

“Rick, the baby!” Daryl yelled in a desperate attempt at making Rick snap out of his anger. And it worked. Rick threw him the most dangerous glare he’d ever seen on the younger man’s face.

“Baby?” 

Shane’s voice echoed through Daryl’s head and then it dawned on him how he’d majorly fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PMDS IS a real condition and according to some research I've been doing, male pregnancy isn't such a wacky idea after all. Figure that!


	8. Changing tides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Wohooo! Sorry for the delay :S
> 
> There's a fight in this chapter between Rick and Daryl. It's a bit intese and there's some heavy accusations in it. Sorry. 
> 
> Remeber this story is unbeta'd!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :D

Shock was evident in Shane’s face as he stood by the car, unmoving; similar to the shock in the faces of a small group of people who’d gathered near during their heated exchange. 

“Daryl, let’s go,” Rick huffed, getting in the car and slamming the passenger door closed. 

Daryl rounded the car to get into the driver’s seat, glaring at the nosy assholes still looking at them. “Da hell ya’ll lookin’ at?” he yelled and the people started to disperse.

Starting the engine and throwing one last glare at the shocked cop, Daryl drove away. He would have to return later to pick whatever it was Dr Greene prescribed for Rick. 

They made it to Rick’s place in less than ten minutes―although it’d seemed way longer for neither uttered a word to each other during the whole ride.

Daryl stopped the engine and sighed deeply. “We’re here,” he said, breaking the heavy silence, and stole a glance at the quiet younger man. Rick had his eyes closed and kept pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Ya sure yer fine, Rick? t’was a pretty hard shove,” he said worriedly. “Anythin’ feels wrong and ya gotta tell me, alright?” Daryl insisted. 

“I’m fine,” Rick huffed angrily and got out of the car, slamming the door shut. 

Daryl got out as well and trailed after him. Rick kept fumbling with his keys and seemed to be having a hard time trying to open the door. He cursed and tried pulling the keys out unsuccessfully.

“Hey,” he whispered and put his hand over Rick’s, straining the violent jerking. “Let me.”

Rick glared at him for long seconds before stepping back and shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “Go ahead,” he rasped.

Daryl grabbed the key and forcefully pulled it out. It was the wrong key. No wonder it got stuck.

He opened the door and Rick pushed past him, eager to get inside. Daryl followed but stayed by the open door. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “Look, Rick, ’m sorry. I didn’ mean t’say it in front of ‘im. Had to make ya snap out of it somehow. Ya were puttin’ yerself _and_ the baby in danger,” he argued.

Rick ignored him. He took off his jacket and threw it on the couch then stormed toward the bedroom. Daryl sighed, shaking his head. Closing the door behind him, he followed Rick.

When he entered the bedroom, the younger man was sitting on the foot of the bed, holding his head with both hands. 

“Rick…” he said softly, putting his hand on one trembling shoulder. Rick looked at him and shoved the arm away.

“ _Him_?” Rick hissed, “Of all people? Did you see the way he looked at me? The way those people looked at me?” Rick stood up angrily.

“They didn’ even know what I’s talkin’ ‘bout,” he tried to reassure the former cop.

Rick didn’t buy it for a second and hissed. “Don’t even try that.”

“Well, so fucking what? Yer pregnant. Big deal. People are gonna notice. Man, is it really something to be so ashamed off?” he spoke, on the verge of yelling.

“Don’t try to make me feel guilty. You don’t know the first thing about how I feel!” Rick snarled.

Daryl scoffed. “I know yer more miserable than I’ve ever seen ya. Havin’ a child s’posed t’make ya happy, not the opposite.”

“I didn’t want any of this!” Rick snapped. “I don’t even remember what happened that night in the first place. You fucked me while I was out. This is your fault!”

Those words hit Daryl like a stab to the gut. 

Heavy silence fell after that, until Daryl spoke again.

“What da fuck are ya sayin’?” Daryl huffed dangerously, slowly approaching the younger man. “What da fuck did ya just say, Grimes?”

Rick blanched as he took notice of the severity of his claim and looked at Daryl in alarm. “I―I didn’t mean―”

“Yer making rape accusations now?” Daryl gruffed; voice trembling with emotion. “Ya think I’d do that t’ya?”

“No,” Rick shook his head for emphasis. He looked pale and sickened by his own words. “Of course not, Daryl…I’m sorry I said that.”

Daryl started shaking with anger, grief and uncertainty, because if he forced his mind to remember, truth was he didn’t recall much of what had happened that night either and the possibility of Rick’s accusations being real horrified him. 

He’d rather die than hurt Rick in any way. 

Daryl’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at Rick dead in the eye and spoke through the tight knot around his throat. “I’d never hurt ya, Rick…”

Rick choked on a sob and his eyes brimmed with tears as well. He approached Daryl carefully and placed a cautious hand on his arm. “I know. I know. I didn’t mean it…what I said.”

Daryl snatched the arm back and started pacing the room; light sniffs wracking his form. Rick followed him with eyes filled with despair. 

“Did I ever make ya feel like that? Like ya didn’ h’ve a choice?” the archer asked thickly, stopping his pacing and turning to look at Rick in the eyes― voice cracking at the end. 

What if that was the reason Rick had ended things that morning? The mere idea sickened him and it became hard to breathe.

“No. Of course not, Daryl, I promise. Please, forget what I said,” Rick begged, shaking his head from side to side, holding out his hands as if trying to soothe a wild animal. It only made Daryl feel worse.

“Nah, ya don’ get to say somethin’ like that an’ pretend it didn’ happen,” he grunted and pointed a finger at Rick. “Ya said it fer a reason.”

“No,” Rick assured. “I didn’t. I didn’t mean it, Daryl, I swear!”

“If I ever hurt ya like that…” he choked on a sob. “I’d die, Rick.”

He meant it.

 

―――――――――

 

Rick launched himself toward the archer and wrapped his arms tightly around the shaky shoulders until Daryl went limp against him; repeating _I’m sorry_ over and over again against Daryl’s ear and holding the older man as they both wept.

A good twenty minutes passed like that and they were both physically and emotionally drained; Daryl more than him, so he moved toward the bed with careful steps, still holding the older man tightly. 

“Lie down,” he whispered against Daryl’s ear. The archer sniffed and pulled a bit away from his embrace enough he could see his face now. Rick started rubbing the muscular arms up and down, his heart hurting as he took a look at Daryl’s broken appearance. “Please, lie down.”

Daryl didn’t respond, but didn’t pull away either, so Rick pushed him lightly toward the side of the bed and leaned over to pull the covers back. Daryl went along and let himself be maneuvered into a lying position. Rick pulled the older man’s shoes off and covered him with the blankets then rounded the bed to lie on the other side, right in front of Daryl. He edged closer until they were pressed against each other, front to front. 

Daryl continued sniffing from time to time and his eyelashes were damp with tears so he reached over and gently wiped them with his thumb then kept caressing the archer’s face. “I’m sorry. I promise you never made feel that way,” he said again and moved his hand to caressed Daryl’s hair, brushing dark, soft locks out of those deep eyes he loved so much as they stared back at him in silence. He smiled sadly. “You only made me long for you.”

Daryl took a deep, quivering breath. “n’m sorry ‘bout that.”

Rick smiled and leaned over to plant a chaste kiss on Daryl’s brow. When he pulled back, Daryl was smiling that tiny smile of his. It lifted his guilt-heavy spirit a great deal.

He sniffed before speaking again. “I remember that we laughed a lot that night. We were on a fight…don’t know what about…but we weren’t even speaking to each other. And you sat down on the couch and started drinking whiskey right from the bottle. I sat down beside you and stole the bottle from you. We didn’t say a word for nearly half an hour but kept on drinking,” he smiled. “Then we started laughing at nothing. And then we started to make out, right there in the couch,” Rick chuckled at memory, “You were so eager to take your pants off while we walked to the bedroom that you tripped and hauled me down with you.” Daryl snorted at that. “We ended up laughing on the floor…I don’t remember much after that, but I know I was happy...and that I was very much into it.” 

Daryl grunted in response and turned to stare up at the ceiling as he chewed on his thumb.

Rick watched the older man in silence for long minutes. He was lying on the same spot he’d slept in so many times before, Daryl’s side. Rick loved to have his room filled with the archer’s unique presence once again. He’d missed it terribly. 

Rick used to lie awake every night after one of Daryl’s countless arrivals as the hunter came back from one of his hunting escapades. He’d stay awake, enjoying the feeling of safety and comfort Daryl provided; studying the man’s every feature, engraving them in his memory, in case the next morning he found cold, empty sheets beside him. But everything was so different now. 

Daryl was different. 

“I’m not ashamed of it...our baby,” he said suddenly, drawing Daryl’s attention back to him. “I’m not, okay? I’m just…scared. But I am happy. I am,” Rick assured, feeling a smile tugging at his lips. He came to realize he hadn’t let himself truly feel it, the happiness of having a child. It was overwhelming.

Daryl turned to him and placed a hand over his shoulder, steadying him and looking at him intently. “Hey…I’m right here. I get it might be scary, but ya ain’t alone in this. I promise.”

Rick smiled as his eyes fixed on those dark blue pools and saw nothing but honesty in them. Daryl had yet to break a promise to him. 

It dawned on him that when they were together, Daryl never made such a promise for he knew he wouldn’t keep it. But things were different now. Everything Daryl told him when he found out about the baby; Daryl had kept it. He’d been there every day since day one. Not one day passed without him coming to see him, checking on him, bringing him food, calling him in case he needed anything and so many little, although important, details. He smiled warmly at the thought.

“Can ya turn around?” Daryl asked suddenly.

He frowned, still smiling. “What for?”

Daryl shrugged. “Somethin’.”

Rick chuckled but complied. “Ya don’t miss a chance, do you?”

“Shut up,” Daryl huffed behind his neck, producing a shiver down his spine. One heavy arm snaked around his waist as the archer placed his hand fully over his swollen belly, “been wantin’ t’do this since ya told me,” Daryl whispered against his ear, rubbing small circles on the baby bump. Rick felt his face heat up and his stomach fill up with butterflies at the tender gesture and placed his own hand over Daryl’s. Tears formed on his eyes at the warm feeling; safety and love. It felt like family.

“Stay,” he huffed, trying to mask his trembling voice. “Please, stay the night.”

“Anything ya want, darlin’,” Daryl whispered without hesitation and tightened his hold around him.

Rick smiled and closed his eyes; tears fell down the corners of his eyes. Sleep claimed him quickly after that.

 

When he woke up, Daryl was still asleep, snoring lightly. Gently and careful not to wake him, he slid out of bed; Daryl’s arm slowly sliding off of him. Rick took advantage of the older man’s unconscious state to watch him sleep and smiled at the hunters’ peaceful features, so different from just the night before. The raw anguish he’d seen on the archer’s face would haunt him forever and he hated to be the one responsible for it. Rick made a promise to himself to never do it again.

After planting a soft kiss on Daryl’s head, he stood up and went to make breakfast. 

It merely took Rick one little shake on the shoulder to wake Daryl. The archer smiled drowsily “Hey,” he greeted as he stretched.

“Hey. I’m sorry to wake you up, but you gotta be at the workshop in an hour,” Rick said softly and waited for him to sit up against the headboard before handing him a mug of coffee. “You’ll need this.”

“Thanks,” Daryl gruffed. 

“You can have a shower…” Rick said then paused, recalling Daryl’s distaste of water, “If you want.” Although he had to say, lately, the hunter smelled and looked clean more often than not.

Daryl snorted. “Actually, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Rick turned serious all of a sudden as he noticed how puffy Daryl’s eyes looked. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” the hunter nodded and chewed on his lower lip. “You?”

“I’m okay.”

“n’ how’s our little one?” Daryl said as his eyes shifted down to his ever growing belly and placed a hesitant hand over it at Rick’s prompting. “Cozy in there? Bet yer daddy keeps ya warm, huh, sweetheart?”

Rick chuckled at how endearing Daryl could act. He was going to be such a good dad.

He took one of the two plates he left by the nightstand and handed it over to the archer. “Made you a sandwich.”

“Jesus, Grimes, how’re ya gonna make me leave after all this attention?” Daryl teased.

Rick just chuckled in response. If it were for him, Daryl would move in that same morning. But it wasn’t up to him only; Daryl didn’t like to be held up in a place for too long, no matter how many sandwiches he made him for breakfast. That much he knew.

“Hey,” he said, drawing Daryl’s attention from his sandwich. “I’ve been thinking…about talking to Lori.”

“Yeah? What changed?” the archer spoke around a mouthful of bread.

“Carl,” Rick sighed. “He made me see some things I’d been ignoring. I hadn’t realized how much all this has been hurting with,” he said, looking down at his own sandwich.

“Ya told ‘im ya’d think ‘bout it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

Daryl snorted and shook his head. “He ain’t gonna get off yer hair till ya do, ya know?”

“I know,” he chuckled and sighed. “I just have to gather up some courage. I’ve been short on it lately.”

“Ya’ll do fine, Rick.”

 

――――――――――――

 

Once at work, Dale gave him hell for arriving five minutes late. He ignored him and went to say hi to Carol.

“Hey yourself,” Carol chirped enthusiastically while counting some cash. “You look awfully cheerful this morning. Did somethin’ nice happen. C’mon, give me all the juicy details.”

He frowned. “Ya know everythin’ don’ ya?”

“I’m just aware.”

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffed playfully then paused, smiling at her. “Spent the night at Rick’s.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “Oh my! _The_ Rick? And how did that come to happen?”

“Well…we got into an argument…it’s was bad,” he shrugged.

Carol frowned, interested, “Is that why you cried? You look like you cried.”

He brushed her off. “Not gonna tell ya ‘bout the fight. But it ended well…fer both of us. We cuddled.”

“You did?” Carol practically squeaked. “Look at you being all cute and romantic. Most men don’t take notice on such important details.” 

Dale showed up and wasted no time to get on his hair. “I’d appreciate it if you started on that engine sometime today, Daryl.”

“Fine. Lead me to it, ol’ man,” he gruffed and followed Dale out to the back.

About half an hour before closing time, Rick showed up and smiled at him brightly as he approached him. Carol elbowed him on the side. “Is that him?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, surprised at the sight. 

“Wow,” Carol exclaimed while Rick was still out of hearing range, “lucky you.”

“Shut up,” he whispered and elbowed her back lightly, then turned to Rick. “What’ya doin’ here?”

Carol threw him a horrified glance, at his rudeness probably, but he ignored her. Rick knew all about it already.

“Hey, yourself. I came to talk to Dale,” Rick explained. “He around?”

“In his office,” Daryl nodded. He was curious about what exactly Rick had to talk to Dale about. “How ya feelin’?” he gruffed.

“Fine, thank you,” Rick replied, smiling brightly at him. There was a twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a while. Then Rick looked at Carol. “You must be Carol.”

“Yes, that’s me. I’ll introduce myself since Mr. No manners here won’t.” 

Daryl rolled his eyes at her remark but it’d made Rick grin prettily so it was all worth it. 

“Carol Peletier, nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to shake Rick’s. “And you must be Rick.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And I’ve heard a lot about you,” Carol replied, then beamed and hugged Rick briefly. “Congratulations, Rick.”

Daryl cringed at that, expecting Rick to react badly and close off but the former sheriff just smiled, returned the hug in earnest and once they parted, he looked shortly down at his belly then up at her again, still smiling. “Thank you. We’re quite happy about it,” Rick said and looked back at him. “I actually came to give Dale the news.”

“Yeah?” Daryl perked up at that, surprised at Rick’s dramatic change in attitude toward his pregnancy. He seemed to glow with happiness and he’d never looked so gorgeous. 

“Yeah, I figured he should know. He’s like a father to you and for me as well while I worked here… unless you already told him…” Rick teased lightheartedly.

“Nah, I havn’,” Daryl said, still a bit in shock. “Ya want me t’go with ya?”

“Yes,” Rick said without hesitation.

Dale immediately lighted up when he saw Rick by the door of his office. “Rick! How are you?” he said cheerfully and stepped closer to him to wrap him in a tight hug. Rick returned it just as tightly. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” Dale asked as they parted. How’s life treated you, son?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. Came to tell you some news, I know you love them,” Rick said, grinning form ear to ear. He looked so happy. Daryl got a warm feeling in his stomach at seeing him like that.

“Well, shoot,” Dale demanded, impatient already.

“I’m pregnant,” Rick said with a bright smile on his face; the corners of his eyes crinkled beautifully. 

Dale stood speechless for a full minute, just shifting his inquisitive stare from Rick to him then back again.

“Daryl is the father,” Rick said before Dale could react and Daryl felt his heart swell with pride. Rick continued to smile.

“W― How―what…” Dale stuttered then took a deep breath. “This is―this is _big_ news. Wow, Rick! What’re the odds? Congratulations!” he exclaimed once able to regain control of his brain and tightly hugged him and Rick again. When they parted, Dale asked to touch Rick’s belly and Rick opened his jacket to let the older man feel the baby. He smiled at the sight.

“So I’m taking that whatever went wrong with you two you’ve already fixed?” Dale said, smirking.

“Ya’re a nosy son of a bitch, ya know that?” he grunted in jest.

“Hey, I just care about you two,” Dale defended himself, “so yes; I’d like to know what your situation is. Can you blame me?”

“Of course not, and we care about you as well, “Rick chuckled, “but no, we’re not together.”

It was the first time Rick had said that and it didn’t feel like a stab in his heart. After last night, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope being rekindled.

“’m workin’ on it,” he joked but Rick looked at him with what seemed like hope on his face and he tried to put all his resolve in that one stare to show the younger man he truly meant it.

After that, Rick left, not before receiving another tight hug form Dale and a dinner invitation from Carol, which he gladly accepted. Daryl walked the younger man to his car.

“I gotta go pick up Carl,” Rick informed and sat on the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window before closing the door and looked at him after starting the engine, smiling warmly. “Are you gonna stop by for dinner after work? I made that stew you like so much.” Rick must’ve seen some hesitation in his features for he immediately gave him a way out, “if you’re not busy, of course.”

“And miss that?” he grunted, stepping away from the car. “Not a chance.”

“See you, then.” Rick smiled sweetly at him and drove off.

“Drive safely,” he yelled and hurried back inside, eager to finish up for the day.


	9. Broken glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get fluffier...yet darker. Sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy and sorry for the long wait to the people still reading this. Thanks so much for your patience and support. <3<3!!
> 
> *Check the tags for updates*
> 
> Remember it's unbeta'd and there're probably mistakes. Sorry in advance.

Rick chuckled as he watched Daryl doing the dishes. “You sure you don’t want me to dry?”

“Jesus, yer stubborn. Said I’d do it, didn’ I?”

“Okay, alright,” he said and sat down as he watched the older man working, cringing a bit every time the plates clashed against one another way too many times to be accidental. But this was Daryl so maybe yeah. 

“There’s a dish cloth right there,” Rick said, pointing at the dishcloths but stood up anyway to hand Daryl the driest one. He leaned by the counter watching Daryl dry the plates with a smirk plastered on his face, receiving them and storing them away.

“So,” Daryl huffed when he finished his task ― without breaking anything, thankfully―and came to stand right in front of Rick.

“So…” he said and tentatively reached for the archer’s still wet hand resting on the counter to place his own on top of it. “Thanks for doing the dishes. You really didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I did, for all the other times I didn’,” Daryl said. “Ya were right. I was an inconsiderate son of a bitch…”

Rick cringed at that. “No, you weren’t. You did other stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Things,” he vaguely explained. 

“Yer a dork,” Daryl snorted, but didn’t move his hand away. Instead, Daryl held Rick’s and started caressing the flesh between thumb and index with his own thumb. 

Rick chuckled feeling his face heating up. “So are you.”

Their gazes locked as they smiled at each other. Well, _he_ was smiling. Daryl was making that grimace sort of smile. But yeah, he was smiling too.

“No! Don’t do that!” Carl yelled suddenly from the living room, breaking their little moment.

“Da hell?” Daryl grunted, frowning.

“He’s watching a show,” he explained.

Daryl stepped a tad bit closer. “Can he hear us?”

“Nah, he’s wearing headphones,” he said smiling as the archer stepped into his personal space and Rick very much allowed it. Although he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right call. 

Daryl puffed up his chest and let out a drawn out sigh as his hand slyly came to rest on Rick’s waist, squeezing a bit. Rick’s own hand traveled up the archer’s arm and settled on the muscular bicep. The air thickened and warmed up as they both, very slowly but surely, inched closer; their noses almost bumping together when Carl entered the kitchen without warning. Rick removed himself from Daryl and turned around to look at his son with a guilty expression plastered on his face. 

“Carl!” Rick exclaimed. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Carl said, giving both grownups a knowing smile.

“Do―do you need anything? Food, maybe? Or somethin’ else...” Rick stuttered nervously. 

“Um, no…” Carl replied, smirking slightly. “We just ate.”

“Right,” Rick nodded dumbly.

“Smooth,” Daryl teased from behind. Rick elbowed him on the side.

Carl let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. “I was just coming to tell you I’m off to bed. So…Goodnight.”

Rick stared at his son awkwardly. Daryl kneed him in the ass to make him snap out of it. “G―goodnight Carl.”

“´night, dad, ‘night Daryl,” Carl said and slowly left the kitchen, eyeing them mischievously and still very much smirking. 

Daryl grunted in response. Rick followed Carl to the kitchen door and peeked down the hallway to make sure the teen made it to his room and closed the door behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, sighing in relief when he turned to face Daryl. “Don’t take this the wrong way….I just…don’t want to get his hopes up.”

“Nah, I get it,” Daryl gruffed and moved to sit in one of the chairs. 

Rick leaned against the counter and took a deep breath before speaking. “What I said…about us not gettin’ back together…” he paused and Daryl’s expression fell so he hurried to make it right again. “You’ve proved me wrong…and I’m willing to give it a try.”

The older man’s expression instantly changed as he perked up to look at him. “Yer not shittin’ me?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. Daryl’s smirk returned and he sat up straighter on his chair, “but I want to keep Carl out of it for now…in case it doesn’t work out.”

Daryl grunted in disapproval. “Sure that’s a smart move? The kid already knows somethin’s up. He ain’t stupid. Man, he just saw us.”

“I don’t want to get his hopes up,” Rick repeated. “He really likes you.”

“Still. Ya know he don’ like t’be kept in the dark.”

Rick sighed and looked down at his boots in shame. “You’re right.”

He still had a lot to learn about how to be a good father. Just recently he’d managed to bring down the wall that he’d built between him and his son ―with Daryl’s help―and here he was trying to put new bricks up.

“Always am,” Daryl said with mock cockiness. 

Rick chuckled but still played along. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing ya don’ gotta find out,” Daryl grunted and stood up to approach the younger man.

Rick nodded, smiling at the approaching archer. “Good thang.”

He initiated the kiss this time, grabbing Daryl’s face with both hands and bringing him closer. Daryl wasted no time in returning it, opening his mouth to welcome him and insistently started pushing with his body, backing Rick against the counter.

 

\----------------------

Rick’s soft lips tasted like home. And God he’d missed them. Daryl took his time to feel them with his own, softly brushing them against the fleshier ones then delving closer to smash them together and plunging his tongue into that welcoming mouth to devour it like a starved man. 

Daryl parted from the kiss just enough to whisper against Rick’s mouth. “Want me t’go? Tell me right now ‘cuz in a minute I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Rick spoke against Daryl’s lip´s and resumed their kiss. 

He buried his hands in Rick’s soft curls. They had grown since the last time he’d buried his fingers there. He pulled on them slightly to draw out that soft grunt he knew Rick would let out at the action. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“Bedroom,” Rick huffed after parting from their heated kiss and grabbed his hand to lead him down the hallway and into his bedroom. It’d be the second time in two days he’d sleep in there, just like old times, but in very different circumstances.

As soon a Rick closed the door, Daryl was all over him, wrapping his arms around the younger man from behind to press his front against Rick’s back. 

Hands sneaked around the slender waist and under Rick’s shirt to find the growing baby bump. They stayed right there, feeling the warm skin lovingly as Daryl relished at the thought of his child growing inside and picturing how Rick would look like in a few months when he was heavily pregnant― gorgeous no doubt― and a wave of protectiveness hit him suddenly. Daryl wrapped his arms a bit tighter around the still too lean form― although filling up some― and swore to himself to protect them with his life. 

He kissed Rick’s temple as the former cop leaned back against him and closed his eyes, sighing deeply and putting his hands on top of Daryl’s. It was such a sweet, tender moment, and to think just moments ago they were ready to jump their bones. 

Rick didn’t forget either since he started pushing his butt against Daryl’s crotch in a suggestive manner. He grunted against Rick’s ear. “Somethin’ ya want?”

“We doin’ it or what?” Rick asked and pushed his butt against Daryl’s crotch again, efficiently waking him up.

“Shit, yeah,” he gruffed and spun Rick around to kiss him again. It was an urgent kiss, all tongue and teeth, till their lips were red and swollen. Rick started pushing against Daryl until he was forced to back up till his legs hit the foot of the bed, and then Rick pushed some more until he was flat on his back with a hungry Rick climbing on his lap. 

“Jesus,” Daryl huffed with feigned surprise, “someone’s eager.” 

This wasn’t news to him. Before their relationship crumbled, Rick tended to be quite eager in bed. No matter how many times they done it, Rick just couldn’t get enough.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Rick said in his defense and started pulling his clothes off. First his oversized sweater then his long sleeved t-shirt. Daryl just enjoyed the show and marveled at the sight of the swelling on Rick’s belly. He hadn’t seen it _this_ clear before. It was adorable. 

Rick caught him staring at it and smiled warmly. “What?”

He stared in awe at the man comfortably sitting in his lap. This gorgeous man that had given him everything he never thought he could possibly have. A family. And even if half the time he felt he didn’t even deserve Rick, he’d give his best to keep it that way. 

“Nothin’. Just ya…and this,” he said affectionately and put his hand on the swelling, “s’ everythin’.”

Rick delved forward to kiss him deeply. His hands traveled from Rick’s belly to his hips then caressed their way up the man’s sides and toward the back. Daryl’s fingers traced the smooth skin lovingly, worshiping every curve and plain, every shift of muscle; every tremble of the younger man’s body. 

Rick’s bottom rocked against his clothed groin enticingly, forcing a grunt from his lips. 

“Gotta get this clothes off. Can hardly feel ya,” he said, though he could feel Rick alright, if his rapidly growing erection was anything to go by.

“Do it,” Rick said climbing off of him to stand beside the bed and started taking his belt off and unbuttoning his pants.  
Daryl stood up as well and started removing his vest, without straying his gaze from the soon to be naked man in front. Then, came his shirt.

Rick hesitated and his hands hovered over the waist band of his jeans as he looked at Daryl; doubt written all over his pretty face. 

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, slightly worried.

Rick bit his lower lip. “Is this right?”

“Can’t find a downside,” he joked.

Rick seemed troubled. “I just…what if this is too soon?”

“Don’ know,” he shrugged. “Ya feel like it is?”

Rick nodded awkwardly. “A bit...and Carl's right next door.”

Daryl sighed, slightly disappointed but willed his erection away without a second thought. He was sort of expecting it. 

“Then we won’ do it,” he said and started re-buttoning his shirt. “We don’ gotta rush it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rick apologized, sounding embarrassed. “I really wanted to”

“Hey, ya don’ gotta be. If yer not comfortable with the pace, ya got every right to say it.” Daryl was quick to reassure.

“I know,” Rick nodded, adopting a more confident bearing, “but still.”

They looked at each other, smiling softly. 

Daryl grabbed his vest and put it on. “I better leave. We takin’ it slow, right?”

Rick hesitated and nodded jerkily. He seemed to want to say something.

Daryl stepped closer and grabbed the younger man’s face with both hands. “See ya t’morrow,” he huffed and kissed the plump lips tenderly. Rick parted his lips to let him in, so Daryl respectfully delved his tongue inside the warm mouth. The younger man’s hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him closer, intensifying the kiss and moaning into it.

Daryl grunted and reluctantly broke it. “Ya seriously gotta stop if ya want me t’go.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Rick said meekly, fixing his stare somewhere over Daryl’s chest.

Daryl smirked and shrugged. “So tell me t’stay.”

Rick smiled and looked up. “Stay.”

Daryl wrapped his arms around Rick, briefly kissing the younger man’s temple then speaking against his ear. “I can definitely do that.”

They slept in the same fashion as the previous night. Clothes on and holding each other close; Daryl’s arm wrapped protectively around Rick’s waist and his hand resting over the swelling belly. 

 

\----------------------------

 

Rick startled awake. It took him a while to realize what had caused it. He felt Daryl jerk awake behind him too so it couldn’t have been just a bad dream. 

“The hell was that?” Daryl grunted form behind. Rick blindly reached over to his nightstand to turn on the light since it was still dark. 

“I don’ know,” he said, studying Daryl’s worried expression.

“Stay here,” Daryl instructed as he stood up hastily and made for the door. Rick stood up as well and followed. Daryl turned to him and stopped him before he could step out into the hallway. “Rick!”

“I gotta go check on Carl,” he argued in a hushed tone, understanding of Daryl’s fierce need to protect him.

“Alright, but be quiet,” Daryl whispered and stealthily paced down the hallway toward the living room. 

He quickly made his way to Carl’s bedroom and quietly opened the door. The teen was out, sprawled on the bed, music blaring through his headphones, completely oblivious to the waking world. He entered the room and approached the window to look outside. There was nothing unusual so he left the bedroom after checking the window lock and closed the door behind him. 

Rick looked back into the hallway just in time to see Daryl hurrying back from the living room. 

“Where’s yer gun?” Daryl huffed, looking dangerously pissed off.

“What? why?” Rick asked, worry creeping in on him at Daryl’s reaction. 

Daryl handed him a brick with a note wrapped around it; the word faggot scribbled in red ink. His stomach churned.

“Where is it?” Daryl insisted. 

He hurried into his bedroom and opened the closet. He pulled out his gun from one of the boxes he’d stashed it in after he got shot, not wanting anything to do with guns after such a traumatic experience. His hand trembled as it held the cold, heavy weapon. Daryl snatched it soon enough.

“Wait! What’re you gonna do?” Rick whispered. 

“Shoot ‘em if I see ‘em,” Daryl angrily spat. “What else?”

“No! Let’s just call the police,” Rick reasoned. 

“Yeah?” Daryl said, taking the brick from his hand and waving it in front of him. “What if this was yer buddy Shane?” 

Rick startled at that. “He―he wouldn’t…do somethin’ like that…” he said weakly. Shane wouldn’t Would he? 

He snapped out of it as Daryl made to leave. “Wait! Don’t do something rash.”

“I’ll just scare ‘em off,” Daryl gruffed and made to leave again. Rick stopped him.

“What if they have guns?”

“All the more reason,” Daryl argued and quickly made his way toward the front door, opening it violently. 

“Be careful!” he yelled but the archer was already outside, the door shut with a thud behind him. 

Rick followed Daryl to the door, avoiding the broken glass on the floor under one of the front widows, and peaked outside through the narrow window beside it; eyes wide and ears attentive. There were no neighbors startled by the noise, apparently, but then again, the houses were a good distance from each other.

The feeling of heavy dread in his stomach instantly relieved at seeing the archer approaching the door through the walkway, although with an angry strut. He opened the door to let Daryl in. 

“What happened?” Rick asked after closing the door and locking it.

“Saw ‘em gettin’ away, em cowards,” Daryl gruffed, still fuming, “In a white truck.”

“They were probably just kids,” Rick said, trying to calm himself more than Daryl.

“Nah. I know ‘em,” Daryl huffed. “They ain’t no damn kids.”

Rick wanted to ask further but judging by Daryl’s bearing, whoever these people were, they weren’t to be messed with.

“Should I call them?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said simply and the feeling of dread returned, taking hold of his stomach once more.

 

\--------------------------------

 

Daryl couldn’t sleep after the police left so he guarded Rick jumpy, interrupted sleep instead.

The cops took in every bit of information necessary for absolutely nothing. Daryl knew it’d be useless. Unless those assholes had come inside the house and beat the shit out of both of them, there was nothing to do. The worst of it all and what he didn’t want to tell Rick about is that they’d be back. He knew them. Some of them were friends with his brother. White supremacists and all that bullshit. They wouldn’t just quit. Besides, one of them had a cop brother ― also an asshole. If there were rumors around the station, like Shane had said, then there was no question of how they’d found out. And time wise, he was sure Shane had something to do with it.

“Hey,” Rick said in a sleep-rugged voice, blinking the sleep away. 

Daryl shifted his eyes to look at him and forced― what he hoped resembled a smile― on his face.

“Hey.”

“You didn’t sleep?” Rick said after stretching a bit and yawning endearingly.

“Nah. Wasn’t tired,” he shrugged.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Rick said, sitting up and placing a comforting hand on his thigh, trying to reassure him. 

“Rick. This assholes don’ fuck around,” he warned. Rick visibly tensed. “The last thing I wanna do is scare ya, but ya gotta be extra careful out there. Shit, in here as well.”

His words had the effect he expected and Rick paled a bit. “You know them.”

“Some of ‘em,” he nodded. 

They fell into an uneasy silence. Rick broke it with one of his impossible smiles. “Let’s not think about that for now. Want breakfast?”

Daryl didn’t feel the least heartened but didn’t want to dampen Rick’s sudden burst of cheerfulness. He looked so damn pretty when he smiled. “Sure.”

“Alright,” Rick said and stood up all excited. Daryl couldn’t tell if he was faking it. “Since you are so awake, why don’t you give me hand?”

He sighed and let himself fall back heavily until he was flat on his back. “Wasn’ part of the deal.”

“What deal? There’s no deal. We’re making breakfast together, it’s settled. C’mon. Get up, you lazy lump.”

“Make me,” he teased, suddenly uplifted by Rick’s bright mood.

“I will,” Rick said, taking on the challenge and stepped closer to get a hold of the archer’s limp hands and pulled on his arms to get him up. Daryl tightened his weak grip all of a sudden and gently but firmly, pulled the younger man on top of him, eliciting a soft yelp of surprise from Rick and securing his arms around the younger man’s back to keep him there. 

“How did I forget you do this,” Rick laughed as he unsuccessfully tried to get up.

“I’ll get up,” Daryl rasped and Rick ceased his struggles. “If ya give me a kiss.”

The bright smile softened in those luscious lips as Rick looked at him and slowly inched closer till their lips met, softly kissing him.

It didn’t last very long since Rick’s mind was set on making breakfast and there was no way of making him change his mind. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Get up,” Rick smirked and stood up.

“Fine,” Daryl grunted and let himself be pulled from the comfortable bed and into the kitchen.


	10. Love ya too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's smut in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update. Yay! Finally. Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Remeber this story is unbeta'd. And I should've probably said English is not my birth language before. If there's any mistake that's too horrible it's probalby because of that. Feel free to point them out to me.

Carl left after breakfast, arguing he had to meet with Enid, his _ex_ -girlfriend for lunch. Daryl and Rick exchanged amused grins as the teen got all flustered while explaining.

Rick didn’t want to tell him about the incident and Daryl agreed with him. Best not to disrupt the teen with such dark matters, not unless it was truly necessary. Daryl hoped it wasn’t.

“So? Wha were ya plannin’ on doin’ t’day?” Daryl crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the kitchen counter while trying to hide an amused smirk as Rick kept picking at the rest of the cake even thought he’d just indulged in a quite lavish breakfast―the baby belly sticking out quite adorably as he leaned back against the counter as well. 

“Not much. Was planning on reading some books. Pregnancy stuff,” the former cop explained when his head perked up with curiosity, “and for when the baby comes. I have a clue of course…with Carl. But it was a while ago and I’m afraid I’m a bit rusty. They can wait, of course.” Rick smirked and threw him a short glance before bringing his attention back to the cake.

“Yer gonna h’ve t’ teach me some o’ it. Know nothin’ ‘bout it,” he grunted with a slight shrug.

“You’ll do fine,” Rick assured as he kept picking at the cake.

“Ya think?” Daryl asked uncertain and started nibbling on his thumb.

Rick looked up at that to meet his gaze. “I’m sure. You’ll be a great dad to our child, Daryl.”

He blushed a bit at the praise and had to duck his head to hide it with his hair. _Him? A great dad? That was something he never pictured happening._ The idea warmed his heart something awful and he had to take a deep breath to loosen the knot that threatened to tighten around his throat before speaking. “Gonna make it my life mission,” he grunted, pouring all his resolve into those words.

Rick smiled sweetly and dusting off his hands off the crumbs, etched closer to lean his chin against Daryl’s shoulder and wrapped him in a half hug. “I know you,” he whispered against his ear. “Our kid’s really lucky to have you as a dad.”

“Ya as well,” Daryl said and wrapped his arm around the still slim waist to tug Rick a bit closer against his side then placed his other hand over the baby bump. 

His phone ringing somewhere in the living room startled them both. Daryl’ cursed, apologizing to Rick while he stepped away from him and strutted angrily out into the living room to fetch the damn thing. It was Dale of course and Daryl was tempted not to answer but risking his job with a baby on the way would not be the smartest move.

“What,” he gruffed in answer.

“Good morning to you too.”

Daryl sighed. “Yeah. What d’ya want?” 

“Jim is sick. He’s got a terrible fever and I need you to cover for him.”

“Yer shittin’ me,” Daryl groaned and rubbed his face with his free hand. Rick was standing by the kitchen door, eyeing him with worry.

“Not _shitting_ you. I need you here in ten minutes. Don’t be late,” Dale informed and hung up before he could growl some more.

“Something wrong?” Rick asked as he approached him, brow creased with concern. 

“Nah. It was Dale. The son of a bitch wants me t’ cover fer Jim.”

Rick visibly slumped. “What time will you get out then?”

“Jim’s shift s’ till six, so…” he shrugged.

Rick nodded. “Can you come by then?”

Daryl felt warm all over at that simple request. Rick really wanted him around. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. Not being around was the reason Rick had broken up with him in the first place.

“Heck yeah. Yer not gettin’ rid of me so easily.”

“I hope so,” Rick said and Daryl didn’t miss the slight edge on his tone. It was quickly forgotten when Rick delved in for a kiss. Daryl kissed back, darting his tongue out to lick at the soft lips, asking for permission. The lips parted as Rick melted against him, leaning his weigh against him and moaning softly into his mouth. Daryl smirked and slid his hands from the small of Rick’s back to the tight mounds of flesh that formed the younger man’s ass.

Rick mewled in approval and chuckled against Daryl’s lips. “Love it when you do that.”

He huffed out a laugh and delved in to kiss those plump lips again, eliciting another satisfied mewl from that delicious mouth.

“Gotta go,” he grimly informed when they parted.

Rick pouted, “I know. See ya tonight, then.”

“Definitely.”

Rick walked Daryl to his bike and they shared one last kiss before he put on his helmet, prompted by Rick. 

“Drive safely, okay. And close your jacket. Don’t want you to get a cold,” the younger man instructed, not waiting for Daryl to do it, doing it himself instead. He just watched the former sheriff with amusement.

“I won’. Don’ h’ve ‘em since I was a kid,” he said, starting his bike.

“Still, there’s no reason for you to get cold,” Rick replied and stepped away from the bike, wrapping his arms around his already shivering form.

“Get back inside. Ya don’ do well with cold,” he teased and Rick laughed but nodded anyway. Daryl turned serious as he recalled last night incident and worry settled in his stomach at having to leave Rick alone. “Ya should lock the door. Just ‘n case.” 

Rick’s mirth dampened at that and his eyes made a quick scan of the area. “They’re not gonna come back during the day,” he reasoned. Daryl hoped he was right.

 

He made it to the workshop just a minute later than Dale expected him to arrive and the old man didn’t miss the chance to let him know. Daryl knew it was just to piss him off so he shrugged it off and put on his overall to get to work.

Just a couple hours before his shift was over, Shane’s arrogant voice announced his presence as he talked to Dale. Dale didn’t like him either and although politely, didn’t hesitate in letting him know. It was the reason why Shane preferred to take his car to Joe’s workshop. So having him there was a bit unexpected. 

“Just need to talk to your man Daryl. No need to get all riled up,” he heard Shane say; voice getting louder as the cop approached the car Daryl was working under. 

“The hell ya doin’ here?” he gruffed, stopping what he was doing but unwilling to come out from under the car just yet. It wouldn’t end well if he saw the smug face of the fucker.

“I heard what happened. Is Rick alright?”

“Ya kiddin’ me, right?” Daryl grunted and got out from under the car anyway, standing up straight to glare at Shane.  
Shane scoffed. “What?” 

“Ya tryin’ t’ tell me ya had nothin’ t’do with it?” Daryl said in sarcastic tone.

Shane cracked up one of his stupid smug smirks. “The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout, Dixon? Hit yer head on your way up?”

Daryl bristled. “So ya didn’ happen t’ share somethin’ ‘bout Rick n’ me t’ anyone, right?” 

Shane shrugged smugly. “I commented it with my partner. The one I heard the rumor from. But that is all. I did not have anything to do with it.”

“If anythin’ happens t’im it’s gonna be on ya,” he hissed, pointing his grease stained finger at the younger man.

“No way,” Shane sighed. “You’re not gonna throw this on me.”

“Too bad. Already did,” he huffed and grabbed the rag hanging from his back pocket to wipe his fingers clean, keeping them busy so his fist didn’t get ideas.

Shane eyed him for a moment then sighed, shaking his head. “Did you see them?”

“Didn’ h’ve to. I know ‘em, n’ ’m sure ya know ‘em too. One of ‘em pricks is brothers with some prick at the station. So maybe next time ya think ‘bout commentin’ on somethin’ not of yer damn business with one of yer prick partners, ya think better on it n’ keep yer damn mouth shut.”

“Those are some serious accusations you’re making, Dixon.”

He bristled. “It don’ matter. Rick’s what matters, n’ those pricks stayin’ away from ‘im.”

Shane stood silently for a moment. “Is it true then? Is he actually pregnant?”

“Why?” Daryl scoffed. “Yer gonna _comment_ on that too?”

“No.”

“Damn right, ya won’t,” he huffed venomously. 

Shane ignored his tone and even smiled. “Wow. What’re the odds, huh? Congratulations.” Daryl frowned and grunted in response. “Well, I gotta get back. Give my best to Rick. Tell him I’m sorry…’bout the other day. I didn’ know.”

Daryl followed the cop with his stare as he left the shop; narrowed eyes and expression heavy with skepticism. Dale had the same expression on his face when he looked at him. 

“What did he want?”

“No idea,” he replied, honestly confused by Rick’s former partner.

 

Dale let him off half and our earlier for the inconvenience and probably because he’d been pacing and huffing for the past hour, worrying about those assholes returning to Rick’s place while he wasn’t there. He made it there in record time and when Rick took too long to answer the door he freaked out and started knocking harder.

“Rick!”

The door opened after a couple of minutes of more insistent knocking and a startled Rick greeted him. 

“What happened?”

“Ya okay?” Rick nodded. “Shit. Thought somethin’ happened t’ya,” he huffed, embarrassed at his overreaction. 

“Well, I’m fine. I was just in the…bathroom,” Rick said, blushing.

Daryl couldn’t contain a snort. “Sorry. Didn’ mean t’ freak ya out.”

“It’s okay,” Rick said and stepped to the side to let him in. “Maybe you should have your key back.” He said it. Just like that. Daryl eyed Rick curiously as the man stood there awkwardly, feeling the need to explain. “…for emergencies and stuff.”

“Right,” he nodded, also feeling awkward. “Emergencies. Good idea.”

“That’s right,” Rick said and changed the subject quickly. “So…You hungry?”

 

They ate in the living room watching TV; some ridiculous soap opera Rick had been following of late.

“So let me get this straight. They’re brother n’ sister, but they don’ know it… n’ they’re in love with each other.”

“No. They think they are, but they aren’t. They don’t know that though, it’s why they’re suffering,” Rick explained. Daryl just snorted. “Hey, it’s not like there’s much else to watch,” Rick said in his defense.

Daryl took the remote and turned the TV off.

“So you _do_ know how to use it,” Rick observed.

“Always knew how t’ turn the damn thing off,” he said and turned to Rick, “’sides, there’s lots more t’ do in the real world.”

“Like working?” Rick said in a downcast tone. 

Daryl frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…remember that job I was applying for before I found out about the baby?” he nodded. “Well I got the response… _finally_.” 

“And?”

“Didn’ get it. Figure it’d some to do with that rumor around the station Shane talked about. So, I spent the day roaming the internet looking for a job. There’s nothing by the way,” Rick sighed.

“Thought ya didn’ wanna work there,” he grunted. Rick hummed, nodding halfheartedly. “Oh, speakin’ of Shane…he stopped by the shop t’day.”

Rick frowned in surprise. “Yeah? What did he want?”

“Said he heard ‘bout what happened. Wanted t’ know how ya were doin’. Sends ya his best,” he said, “n´said he’s sorry for pushin’ ya the other day. He congratulated me.”

“Wow,” Rick said. “That’s… nice of him.” Daryl shrugged and grunted. “So he knows about the baby, huh?”

“Yeah.”

 

――――――――――――――――

 

Rick just nodded, deep in thought. 

“Hey, ya don’ gotta work, Rick. Not yet,” Daryl said suddenly, cutting his thoughts.

Rick sighed, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Daryl…I can’t do that.”

“’S just fer a while.”

“It’s just…weird,” he said weakly. 

“What? Depending on someone else fer once? I get it, Rick. Ya feel like ya gotta provide fer yerself …but these are different circumstances. Yer having a baby. My baby. And I wanna do it. I wanna provide fer ya both.”

Rick smiled at Daryl’s intent; his chest warming up with emotion. But he quickly snapped himself off it. “Well, babies cost money. I’m not saying I don’t want you to, but I’d still be better if I worked until I can. I’ll be harder to get back afterward…and for a while.”

“Rick, Dale’s paying me good money, n’ am already doin’ extra hours. I can ask fer more. I don’ want ya t’ worry ‘bout this shit.”

“Daryl―” He sighed but got interrupted. 

“I ain’t finished. But if it’s somethin’ ya really want…Carol used to go with her daughter to the social services agency fer shelter when shit went down with her husband,” he explained when Rick gave him a questioning look. “She’s been doin’ some courses and she’s applying fer a job there. She’s waiting fer a response. Told me just last week.”

Rick’s eyes widened and a huge smile formed mouth. “You think Dale would take me back?”

“He better.”

“That’d be perfect!” Rick said, excited at the news and wrapped Daryl in a tight hug. “This takes such a huge weigh off my shoulders,” he said, then pulled back to look at Daryl in the eye. “You think Carol will get the job?”

Daryl puffed out. “She’ll get it.”

Rick smiled and stayed silent for a couple of minutes before speaking again. “It’d be just like old times.”

“Yeah.” Daryl let his gaze drop to his lips as he flicked his tongue out to lick them, acutely aware of the effect it’d have on the archer. Rick smirked and lunged forward to clash their lips together. Daryl was surprised for merely seconds before he started to eagerly respond to the kiss, placing his hand behind his head and pulling him closer. Rick got the hint and hauled his leg to Daryl’s other side to straddle him and sit on his lap. He arched his back when Daryl’s big hands traveled from the small of his back upward, then down again, caressing the entire expanse of it. 

“Daryl…” he huffed. 

“What?” Daryl asked and stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, pupils huge with lust.

“Forget what I said about waiting. Fuck waiting.”

“Done,” Daryl grunted and delved in for another kiss. Rick brought his hands up to tangle his fingers through Daryl’s dark, soft locks as he opened his mouth in welcome for the archer’s tongue, moaning into the kiss.

The hands on his back moved to his hips, then up over his sides from there; this time, with the sole intent on taking off his clothes. He smiled into the kiss and lifted his arms to let Daryl take both his shirt and sweater in one go. They broke their kiss noisily so Daryl could pull Rick’s clothes all the way off; his hair getting tousled at the action. 

“Daryl snorted. “Yer curls are getting’ outta control.”

“I know. I gotta get a haircut,” he said, trying to tame their wildness with his fingers.

“Don’,” Daryl caught his hands midway, preventing him from tidying the mess. “Love ‘em like that,” he said and cupped his stubbled chin to bring him closer for another kiss which Rick returned by slipping his tongue inside Daryl’s mouth to taste every corner of the warm cavity, fighting against the archer’s tongue as it attempted to do the same.

Rick moaned as those strong hands roamed over every expanse of naked flesh they could find, making him shiver with excitement; his cock filling up with every touch, uncomfortably restrained by his jeans. And by the feel of the substantial bulge against his ass, Daryl wasn’t faring better.

“It’s been a while since last time…I don’t think I can hold for long. We should take this to the bedroom,” Rick said and stood up from Daryl’s lap, grabbing the archer’s thick hand and pulling him up, meeting not resistance whatsoever.

At entering his room and spotting the bed they’d used for the same purpose they were about to use it for, many times before, Rick’s lust filled mind finally processed what was about to happen and that familiar, coiling feeling of excitement settled deep within his stomach.

He hadn’t felt like that in a while. 

An easy, lazy smile tugged at the corners of his lips when Daryl’s broad chest pressed against his back and his muscular arms wrapped around his midsection as the older man leaned closer to nip at his neck. He let his head fall to the side, exposing more of his flesh to the hunter’s greedy mouth.

“Missed ya so much,” Daryl grunted against his ear, inhaling deeply after uttering those words. Before, he’d killed to hear the hunter say them after a long absence. But enough of the past. The present was good enough to erase every mistake made. And their future looked quite promising.

He turned on Daryl’s embrace and tugged at the leather vest, sliding it off, then his hands got busy unbuttoning the dark shirt. “Let’s get this off. Wanna see those shoulders.”

Daryl smirked bashfully once the shirt was off, but still stood straighter to let Rick admire them in their full glory. “Like that?” 

“Very much,” Rick huffed and brought his hands up to caress the hard muscle under the smooth skin. He’d always loved Daryl’s impressive shoulders. Along with his powerful arms and strong hands. 

Those same hands griped his waist with force and pulled him closer so their growing erections bumped against each other. Both men let out similar grunts of pleasure.

Their mouths clashed together as they both delved in for a kiss at the same time, their noses bumping harshly, causing both men to laugh. 

“Ouch. Sorry,” he said and tilted his head to the side to kiss Daryl’s thin lips with tender passion. Daryl grabbed the back of his head to keep him close and not break the kiss while giving a few steps forward, forcing Rick to step back toward the bed. When the back of his knees came in contact with the foot of the bed, he let himself fall back to lie flat on his back, aided by a gentle push from the archer.

Daryl’s hands immediately went to his belt and started unbuckling it with expert hands. Rick stared at the older man through dark-with-lust eyes as he crawled on top of him in a dangerous fashion, like a hunter seizing their prey. He quickly grabbed a pillow and put it under his head to watch Daryl’s actions properly. 

The archer’s face kept getting closer and closer to his belly and he tightened his muscles in anticipation as the fluttering sensation in his stomach increased. 

He giggled when Daryl’s soft beard grazed over his sensitive skin. The noise attracted the hunter’s attention to him and those dark, mysterious eyes locked with his as Daryl lowered his mouth to press multiple feather like kisses right on the baby bump. The action made him squirm with delight. 

“How’s mah lil’ one? Yer nice n’ warm in there? Bet ya are,” Daryl cooed and kissed his belly again.

“How are you so cute?” Rick cooed back with a dazed smile. Daryl kept his chin pressed there as he looked at him though narrowed eyes, smirking. “I love your eyes. I really hope our child gets your eyes.”

“Nah, yers are better,” Daryl said and resumed kissing his belly until the kisses started traveling up to his chest, making Rick shiver and moan with pleasure. The kisses stopped right in the middle of his chest then Daryl started rubbing his beard over his left nipple.

Rick arched his back to intensify the feeling. “Daryl!” he yelped when Daryl’s lips closed around it and started to suck on it, something they’d done multiple times before for Daryl had a fixation with his nipples, but now, the feeling was way too much. 

“What! What’s wrong?” Daryl asked worriedly.

“Too much…too sensitive.”

“Yer nipples?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out and lifted his head from the pillow to look at his perked up nipples and brushed his finger over one, noticing how the light friction set his nerves alight. “Weirdly sensitive,” Rick added.

“Ya think it’s because of this?” Daryl suggested, placing a hand over the swell in his belly.

Rick shrugged. “What else?”

Daryl circled his finger around the nub without touching it. “Well, gonna pay attention to other parts of ya then,” he said and delved forward to kiss his smiling lips in a tender kiss. 

Rick arched his back and groaned when Daryl pressed his hard erection against his own, slowly but firmly rutting against him. Their naked bellies barely ghosting against each other. 

He spread his legs to let the archer rest between them after the rutting stopped. 

“Fuck. I’m not gonna last long,” he grunted.

“Right,” Daryl said and started unbuttoning his pants with haste, then his own and stood up to take them off. Rick sat up to get a better look. Daryl stole a furtive glance at him as his hands hesitated over the waistband of his pants. He offered and encouraging smile and the pants came off. 

Rick let his eyes roam over Daryl’s powerful naked form, taking his time to admire every plane and curve till his eyes dropped down to Daryl’s stiff manhood standing proud between the man’s thighs. He licked his lips and swallowed thickly. It’d been a while since he’d last seen it; the last time he was too drunk to remember and before that, they’d stayed out of each other’s way for a while, so he’d forgotten just how big the archer really was.

“You’re beautiful,” Rick praised and Daryl’s glare-like stare softened and his tense posture relaxed.

Daryl allowed himself to smirk. “Lie back,” the hunter instructed and stepped closer to the bed. Rick obeyed and let the archer’s hands tuck underneath the waistband of his jeans to pull them off, holding onto his underwear as well and sliding both garments down his legs, leaving him completely naked on the bed. 

“There’s lube in that drawer,” he said, pointing toward his nightstand.

“Condoms?” Daryl asked as he went to fetch the lube.

“We don’ really need that, do we?” Rick said matter-of-factly.

“Trust me that much, huh?” Daryl teased.

Rick smiled. “Course I do.”

 

Rick closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensation of Daryl’s thick fingers inside him, scissoring him open and fucking him slowly and steadily. When the fingers withdrew, he opened his eyes to lock them with Daryl’s, letting him know solely with his gaze that he was ready.

Daryl’s body covered him completely and Rick spread his legs wider to let the arched settle between them. 

He willed himself to relax when the blunt head of Daryl’s cock breached his entrance like so many times before. It stung a bit, but Daryl had taken his time to prepare him, and in a few minutes, Rick was ready to take more in. 

“Deeper,” he whispered and Daryl thrust in a bit deeper. Rick relished at the feeling of his channel opening up, making room for that thick, warm cock.

This was always Rick’s favorite part, when Daryl was deeply rooted inside him, all the way to the hilt, unmoving while his body struggled to adjust to the huge girth inside him.

“Move,” he prompted after a few minutes. 

Daryl kissed him briefly then locked dark eyes with Rick’s. “Tell me if ya need me t’stop,” he said and slowly pulled out, only to thrust back in all the way. 

Rick moaned loudly as his spot was brushed slightly and his legs wrapped around Daryl’s waist to pull him deeper. “There.”  
Daryl pulled out again and thrust back in, angling his hips to make full contact with Rick’s prostate.

“Fuck!” Rick mewled as his head fell back against the pillow, curling his toes and scratching Daryl’s back with is blunt nails. “There…harder!”

Daryl complied for his thrusts became more powerful and faster, ramming Rick’s bundle of nerves every time he plunged in.  
Rick’s nerves were tingling with pleasure and with each thrust he fell closer and closer to the edge. 

His throbbing and leaking cock gave a twitch when Daryl’s hand wrapped around it and started pumping him with resolve.

“Daryl…m’close!” he groaned, closing his eyes at the intensity of it all.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Daryl huffed against Rick’s neck then started nibbling and sucking on his sensitive skin. “Ya feel so good, Rick. So good ‘round me. Missed ya so much.”

“Love you,” Rick murmured without even noticing, too far gone to process any thought.

He came with a grunt; body thrumming with the force of it. With the last drop of release, Rick sagged against the bed, fully spent and weak. He moaned when Daryl’s still stiff cock pulled out of him.

“No, finish it,” Rick said, weakly attempting to grab Daryl’s hand.

“Nah, ya just rest. I got it,” Daryl said and laid down beside him to finish himself off, grunting and panting as he came. Rick watched him through heavy lidded eyes. 

“Come here,” Rick said once Daryl was done, extending his arm to pull him closer. Daryl looked at him and smirked, leaning closer for a sweet, lazy kiss.

“Love ya too,” Daryl whispered against his ear as he wrapped himself around Rick’s back in a protective hug. He smiled happily at those words. They were the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him.


	11. Intruder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'm not completely happy with this chapter but I really hope you still enjoy it. 
> 
> Thank you all for the support and those lovely comments and kudos. They make my day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember this story is unbeta'd and that the mistakes are mine alone. I apologize for each of them.

Rick’s started to stir in his embrace and he pressed his mouth against his temple, inhaling the younger man’s scent deeply. “Ya alright?” he asked after tenderly kissing the spot. 

Rick nodded and lazily caressed Daryl’s hair. “How long ‘ve you been awake?”

“Half n’ hour or so.”

“Why didn’ you wake me?” Rick asked as he stretched like a cat.

He shrugged. “Was watchin’ ya sleep.” And he was. Just like he’d done plenty times before.

He leaned closer to plant a short kiss on Rick’s pink mouth and a second kiss right on that dot of a mole on his right cheek, placed just where his beard ended. He loved that tiny mark.

Rick delved in to steal his own kiss and just when he was pulling away, Daryl lurched forward to deepen it. The younger man smiled against his mouth and Daryl pulled away just enough to admire its beauty.

“I can still feel you inside me,” Rick informed with a lazy smile. 

Warmth settled in the pit of his stomach at those words. “Ya like that?”

Rick nodded. “Very much.”

“Didn’ hurt ya, did I?” he asked with concern. Maybe he should’ve taken more time to prepare Rick. It’d been a while since their last time.

“Of course you didn’,” Rick assured and reached over to brush a lock of hair away from his eyes, soothing his worries. 

Daryl turned on his side to fetch the plate he’d left on the nightstand earlier with a slice of that cake Rick had become so fond of to indulge him with. He was surprised to have found a slice left in the freezer in the first place. 

“Hungry?”

“Oh, that’s just what I needed,” Rick said excitedly, and sitting up he attempted to grab the plate from Daryl’s grasp but he moved it away from the greedy hands. Rick pouted and groaned in distress. Daryl chuckled at the reaction and cut a piece of the fluffy thing with the fork then brought it to Rick’s mouth. “Open up.”

Rick smiled and parted his plump lips to receive the bite, flicking his pink tongue to lick the cream left in them as he closed them around the fork, moaning and closing his eyes in pleasure as he munched on the cake. It shouldn’t be such an erotic sight but it was and his dick highly approved of it. 

At the next bite, Daryl beat him to it and licked the remaining cream on Rick’s lips himself then kissed the sweetened mouth hungrily. It was really a delicious cake.

Once satisfied, Rick laid back against the pillows and put one arm behind his head, looking at him. “Tell me more about your brother.”

He grunted. “Not much t’ tell. He’s an asshole.”

Rick frowned. “You said that. But he can’t _just_ be an asshole.”

“How ‘bout meth addict?” he replied dryly. Why would anyone want to know more about Merle?

“C’mon, there’s gotta be somethin’ nice you can say about him,” the former cop insisted.

“Somethin’ nice ‘bout Merle?” he grunted and studied the ceiling as he let himself fall back against the pillow. “Guess he taught me lotta things.”

“He taught you how to hunt?” Rick asked with obvious interest, propping his head against his hand and resting his weight on his elbow, looking at him expectant, drawing little circles on Daryl’s bare stomach.

“Yeah, my dad as well but…yeah, I guess Merle did the job better…ya know, before he left,” he sighed.

Rick’s eyebrows perked up. “You’re mad at him for leaving?”

“Was for a while.”

“You blame him?”

“Can’t. He got out ‘cuz he couldn’t take anymore. He got off way worse n’ me. I got the brunt when he left but dad was older n’ sick. He got tired easier n’ drunk himself till he passed out. I still got it harsh, tho.” Rick kept silent and threw him an expectant glance so he continued. “Beatings mostly. Insults. Sometimes he’d lock me outta the house for a whole night.”

“I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” Rick said sadly and leaned to kiss his bare shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“s’ fine,” he grunted.

Rick continued after a pause. “And what about your mom? I know how she died but…what was she like?” 

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His mother was something he’d gotten over easily. But he’d always assumed it was because he never saw her body. It was as if it hadn’t even happened. And once back at his dad’s he got other shit to worry about. He’d probably never come to terms with it. Couldn’t let himself think about it then, and now… too much time had passed.

“She was nice when sober. When she wasn’t… she just didn’ give a shit ‘bout us,” Daryl explained and saw Rick grimace from the corner of his eyes. “Hey, ya don’ gotta feel bad. Was a long time ago.”

“It’s just…not fair. Our lives were so different,” Rick said tightly, as if he actually felt guilty about it. “I’m so sorry, Daryl. No one deserves that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Yer sure ‘bout that?” He teased, effectively drawing out a chuckle from the younger man and lightening the mood.

“Shut up. You’re the best person I know. You’re honest, selfless, kind…even if you like to hide all those things behind that rough exterior,” Rick said and inched closer to plant a kiss on his forehead. “And many, many other things. It’s why I’m so proud that you’re the father of my child.”

“Not s’ much as I am,” Daryl said and placed his hand on his growing child. 

Rick placed his own hand on top and sighed. “I mentioned Merle because you said you hadn’t told him ‘bout this, yet.”

“Yeah?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“I was thinkin’…we could tell him together?” 

“Ya wanna meet ‘im?” Daryl asked, genuinely stunned. “Merle?”

Rick sighed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I wanna meet him. He’s your brother.”

Daryl hummed then looked at Rick smirking. “Yer sure ya wanna put yerself through that?”

Rick smirked back. “C’mon, how bad can it be?”

He hummed again. Merle and Rick occupying the same space was something he never saw possible. Merle had a foul mouth and loved using it to make people uncomfortable. He didn’t want Merle to make Rick uncomfortable, and he’d try. Rick on the other hand didn’t make it a habit of taking bullshit from assholes like Merle and he’d probably dealt with many Merle’s in his life as a cop. It would definitely be an interesting exchange. 

“If ya wanna, then it’s yer choice, but m’ warnin’ ya, it ain’t gonna be a pleasant chat.”

Rick just smiled brightly, excited about the idea for some reason. “So when can we go? Is it a weekly visit?”

There was no way out of it now. 

“Yeah, n’ I already went this week,” he said and Rick nodded.

“So next week?”

He didn’t get to answer for the phone rang suddenly, startling them both.

Rick sighed and got out of bed completely naked. “Be right back,” he called over his shoulder. Daryl smiled at the sight of Rick’s gorgeous butt as it disappeared out of the room and down the hallway. He craned his neck to follow the view as much as possible.

Rick meeting Merle next week? He sighed. It could be next week, but he’d like to warn his brother first, or threaten him to permanently cut his cigarette supply if he didn’t treat Rick nicely. Or at least tried to. Rick was pregnant and as far as Daryl knew, you weren’t supposed to upset pregnant people. What if those pregnancy mood swings kicked in, triggered by one of Merle’s biting remarks and Rick started crying right in the middle of the visit room? He snorted at the ridiculous idea. Rick was probably not gonna take any shit from Merle. Though Daryl still hoped Rick would forget the urgency. They could always go the week after that.

Rick made his gloriously naked reentrance to the bedroom, drawing Daryl’s attention from his musings.

“That was Carol. She wanted to know if we’d be up for that dinner invitation today and I said yes. Is that okay?” Rick informed, approaching the bed.

“Sure. Love Carol’s cooking.”

“More than mine?” Rick playfully asked as he jumped into bed and started crawling toward him to give him a brief kiss.

“m’ I s’posed t’ lie t’ ya?” he teased, placing his hand on Rick’s hip to caress the soft skin. 

Rick chuckled. “Nah, I know I’m not good. So next week?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head in defeat. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Rick said and waited until Daryl’s eyes met his to continue. “It’s gonna go okay.”

He nodded halfheartedly. “Just…don’ get yer hopes up.”

“Okay,” Rick said and offered a reassuring smile. 

“Okay,” he replied and delved in for a tender kiss that soon turned passionate and urgent.

Rick moaned as the archer sucked at a tender spot on his neck and his hand caressed its way down over chest, stomach and stopped on the junction between thigh and hip were it stopped to wait for his mouth as he kissed his way down the same trail to meet it. 

He took his time to worship Rick’s body―looking beautiful in the morning light― with hands and mouth while the man moaned loudly, gripping Daryl’s hair in his fist. 

When Rick’s spread his legs in invitation, he wasted no time in settling in between them. And after some quick preparation, although Rick deemed it unnecessary, they made love for the second time since they got back together.

They showered together after that and Rick made a thorough job of shampooing Daryl’s hair, scratching the scalp with his fingertips. It was pleasantly relaxing though it stung a bit when Rick said he was doing it wrong. The fact that anyone could wash hair the wrong way was beyond him.

After drying each other off, they clumsily walked back into the bedroom, both wrapped in one big towel while Daryl laid tiny kisses on both Rick’s shoulders from behind.

“Is this okay?” Rick asked as he finished buttoning up his blue plaid shirt and tucking it inside his jeans. 

Daryl shrugged. “Ya look like a dad.”

Rick blinked several times. “Is that good or bad?”

“How should I know?” he shrugged again.

“Well, I _am_ a dad…and so are you.” 

He smirked at that. “But Imma cool dad. Got a bike n’ all.”

Rick put on his black sweater and turned to look at him questioningly, spreading his arms to the sides. 

“Rick, what d’ya want me t’ tell ya? Doesn’ matter what ya wear, ya’ll still look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“I’m sorry,” Rick sighed. “Lori used to help me with this stuff. If it wasn’t my uniform I had no clue what to put on.”

Daryl gave Rick an up and down look. “Does it help if I tell ya I’d fuck ya against that drawer right this second?”

Rick nodded, lifting his eyebrows. “It does.”

Daryl grabbed his shirt form the pile of clothes on the floor beside the bed, carelessly thrown there the night before, and gave it a little shake to straighten it some. He was about to put it on when Rick stopped him.

“I washed your other shirt,” Rick said casually while opening the closet door to carefully fish out Daryl’s black shirt from where it hung among his clothes. “Here.”

The hunter took the outstretched garment with hesitant hands then brought it close to inspect it. It even smelled nice. Daryl eyed the younger man fondly as he put the rest of his clothes he’d fished out while trying to decide what to wear back in the drawer and closet.

“Missed this,” he said suddenly, drawing Rick’s attention back to him. “Never told ya before… but I like this, us…actin’ like one of ‘em cheesy couples from yer shitty soap opera.”

Rick burst out a laugh then smiled sweetly. “Me too. I’m a bit nervous, though. It’s our first dinner invitation as a couple.”

“Yeah,” he grunted and smiled back, “but it’s at Carol’s. Ain’t no reason t’ be nervous. N’ yer gonna love her.” 

They smiled at each other in silence for a moment before resuming their getting ready. Rick grabbed his belt and started putting it on, even if he’d purposely set it aside to store it away. “I don’t even need this anymore…but just in case.”

“Old habits die hard,” Daryl stated as he finished buttoning up his clean, nice smelling shirt.

“Shit,” Rick said suddenly as he inspected his growing belly in the mirror. “What am I even gonna wear in a couple months? I highly doubt they have maternity clothes for men.”

Daryl chuckled to himself. As far as he was concerned, Rick could wear nothing during those months.

――――――――――――――――――

They knocked on Carol’s door in synch and chuckled at how ridiculously couply they were acting. Daryl was right. They were cheesy.

“Hey, you both!” Carol greeted them cheerfully as she opened the door, smiling her impossibly bright smile at them and giving each a tight hug. “How are you, Rick? Feeling good?” she asked as they broke apart from their embrace.

“I’m great. Except I’m hungry all the time,” he complained.

“Not a problem. I made tons of food,” Carol sympathized. He blushed a bit.

“We didn’t know what to bring so we picked up a cake. It’s coconut,” Rick said, his mouth started watering just at the thought of it.

“Oh, you sweeties. You really didn’t have to, but thank you,” Carol said smiling, closing the door behind them.

“I thought wine ’d be better but almost got punched when I suggested it,” Daryl teased and comfortably made his way to Carol’s kitchen to leave said cake. Rick followed it with his eyes.

“Oh, is it one of your cravings?” Carol asked, smiling.

“I guess,” he nodded bashfully, although he hadn’t really given his need for it much thought before today. It was a fairly new development anyway. Although Daryl had caught on it right away, apparently.

“I couldn’t stop eating chocolate chip cookies. Made whole batches just for myself,” Carol commented as she ushered him toward the living room and made him take a seat. 

Daryl came back and propped down beside him, holding out a plate with a small piece of the cake. “T’ get ya by,” he said and kissed his temple.

Rick smiled like a dork at Daryl’s thoughtfulness, because he really fucking needed to eat some of it. “Thanks.”

“Daryl, come and help me will you?” Carol called from the kitchen door. Daryl patted him in the thigh and stood up to oblige. 

“Oh, you need help?” he asked and made to stand up as well.

“No, Rick. You stay there and eat your cake. What kind of a host would I be if I made you help in your first visit?”

“I really don’t mind,” he said around a mouthful.

“I’ll let you help next time,” Carol said while ushering Daryl to the kitchen.

He smiled and continued eating his slice of cake, closing his eyes to better enjoy the taste. After finishing his delicious and much needed snack, Rick peered into the kitchen to leave the used plate and hopefully wash it if Carol allowed it.

Daryl and Carol’s back were facing him so they didn’t see him right away. He stopped as they began laughing at something she said while Daryl sliced the meat. Rick was amazed. He’d never seen the archer so at ease before. So comfortable. And he actually laughed out loud at Carol’s joke. Not just a short chuckle or a snort. An actual laugh. 

“It smells great,” he said as the delicious smells hit him. 

Carol turned to greet him. “Rick, sweetie, give me that,” she said and take the plate form his hands and washed it herself before he had a chance to complain.

Daryl washed his hands when finished with the meat and drying his hands on his pants he moved to the door that led to the backyard and shouted out as he opened it. “Ya gonna come n’ say hi t’ me or what?”

The archer’s shout was followed by an excited shriek. “Daryl!”

The owner of the shriek came barging into the house and threw herself at Daryl’s arms, latching her thin arms around the archer’s neck as he pulled her up. “Ya’ve been good, h’ve yat?”

“Yes. Why haven’t you come visit?”

“Been busy. But I promise I’ll come more often from now on, kay?” Daryl said and pulled her down.

“Alright, enough of Daryl, Sophia. We have another guest,” Carol said and winked at him.

Rick smiled as he looked down at the girl and held out his hand. “Hi Sophia, nice to meet you. I’m Rick.”

Sophia took his outstretched hand and shook it. “Hi, nice to meet you. Are you Daryl’s boyfriend?”

“Um…yeah, I am,” he replied with some hesitance. They hadn’t talked about it yet, but Rick guessed it wasn’t really necessary. 

“Are you the one keeping Daryl busy?”

“Sophia!” Carol scolded her daughter in jest.

“Yer a nosy lil’ trouble maker, ya know that?” Daryl teased and hauled a screeching and laughing Sophia over his shoulder and carried her out into the dinning room then sat her on a chair. He watched the exchange with a smile on his face. Daryl had a way with kids.

“Sorry about that. I figured I’d be better to tell her. She kept asking about Daryl.” 

“Hey, it’s fine.” Rick assured. 

“Well. Shall we go eat then?” Carol asked with a clap of hand.

He nodded enthusiastically. “After you.”

Rick took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he leaned back on his chair. He shouldn’t have put on the damn belt. What the hell was he thinking? He was stuffed.

“Everything was delicious, Carol. Those potatoes…I think they’ve become my new craving…but I don’t think I can eat ever again.”

Carol laughed. “I’ll give you the recipe.”

“Thanks," he said and after a short moment of silence he spoke again. “Daryl told me you were applying for a new job at the human services department.”

“Yes. I’m waiting for an answer. I thought it’d be a great way to give back to them some of the support they provided for Sophia and me when we needed it the most. That and to be able to help other women and children in the same position we used to be. So…fingers crossed.”

“Ya ’ll get it,” Daryl added from the living room where he was playing some card game with Sophia. The archer lifted his gaze from his cards to look at Carol with deep admiration... or _something_.

“Daryl, you’re not paying attention,” Sophia scolded the older man comically.

Carol smiled fondly at the two. “She adores him. It surprised me how quick she came out of her shell with him. She doesn’t do that with just anyone. He’s been of great help to her. To us.”

“How so?” Carol asked curiously.

Rick took another deep breath. “He’s much more willing to share more of himself. And to accept the fact that people can love him for who he is. I think you had a lot to do with that.”

Carol smiled as she looked back at Daryl and there was love in her eyes. Rick couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. Perhaps, if he hadn’t become pregnant and barged back into Daryl’s life, he and Carol would’ve end up together. She and Sophia deserved someone like Daryl.

They both helped put everything away and dried the dishes while Carol washed, all very much against her will. 

“Thanks for everything. And for this,” Rick said as they said goodbye by the door, lifting the rest of the cake Carol had insisted he took with him and the rest of the baked potatoes he’d loved so much. 

“No need to thank me. I loved having you here,” she said as she hugged him. "And you need those more than I do."

He smiled as they parted. "I do."

“See ya t’morrow,” Daryl said to Carol, draping an arm wound her and kissing her hair.

“Bye, Daryl,” Sophia said sadly and Carol had to pry her off of Daryl.

“Be good t’ yer mum, kay?” Daryl said in a half warning half teasing tone and she nodded.

“Bye, Sophia, it was nice meeting you,” Rick said. Sophia replied with the same although halfheartedly. He didn’t miss the scowl the little girl sent his way when Daryl flung an arm around his shoulders and led him away from the door. 

Rick knew it was the stupidest thing ever, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was stealing Daryl from them. 

They got in the car and drove in silence for a few minutes until Daryl broke it.

“Ya okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied and kept looking out the window.


	12. Groundwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update...finally. I'm sorry i kept you waiting for so long...to whoever keeps reading this story. Thanks for all the support. I'll try to update more often from now on. Love y'all!

The week went by too quickly for Daryl’s liking and the dreaded time had come. 

He was incessantly chewing on his thumb and bouncing his right leg up and down while waiting for Merle to be brought to them. At least he’d warned him like he wanted to by letter, but with his brother, there was no guaranty.

Unfortunately for him, they accepted Rick’s visiting application right away. Of course they would. So there they were, waiting. 

Rick looked at him. “You’re nervous?”

“Nah,” he said shortly, looking at the door for the thousandth time in five minutes. 

“Yes you are,” Rick smiled then placed a comforting hand on his jumpy leg. “It’s gonna go well.”

“Whatever happens, just remember I told ya so,” Daryl said, internally praying for Merle to get a stomach bug or insult one of the guards. It’d happen plenty before and he’d be asked to go home without seeing his brother. _Please, let it be the case._

“Daryl, I told you already, you don’t have to feel responsible for your brother. Whatever he says, I can take it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. His stomach twisted when he saw Merle being escorted to the visit room by the staff, cursing the bastard for deciding to be disciplined for once. “Shit, here he comes,” he hissed and stood up.

Rick turned to the door at that and stood up as well.

“How’s my Lil’ bro?” Merle greeted cheerfully as he walked to them, ignoring Rick for the moment. “I got yer letter.”

“Good. Then ya already know,” Daryl huffed in warning then turned to Rick. “This is—“

“Officer friendly,” Merle interrupted in a mocking tone, seizing Rick up and down before taking the outstretched hand. Daryl was relived he used that pet name instead of ‘pig’ to address Rick. “We finally meet.”

“Nice to meet you, Merle,” Rick said politely.

“Right back at ya, officer,” Merle greeted in a “Darleena here spoke me wonder’s of ya.” _And there it was_. Rick tried to hide a grin at the name. Daryl threw Merle a dirty glare. “Was surprised t’ hear ‘bout ya comin’,” Merle taunted, sitting on his chair and leaning back on it, smirking at Rick, “Last thing I heard, ya’d cut my lil’ brother lose. Couldn’t live without him, huh?”

“Yes, I broke up with Daryl,” Rick said, giving Daryl a tentative glance, “for reasons we’re not going to burden you with.”

“No burden,” Merle said, shaking his head and smirking still. “Nothin’ ‘bout mah brother can be a burden.”

“We had our differences.”

“Love how he talks,” Merle mocked, turning to Daryl. “So polite.”

Rick studied the older Dixon with a tiny smirk on his lips, no doubt realizing just what an asshole Merle was.

Merle etched closer to Rick, leaning his weigh on his elbows, in a clear attempt to intimidate the younger man. “Then why’d ya crawled yer way back t’ ‘im, may I ask?”

Rick seemed unfazed as he replied. “Something happened.”

“My, my, n’ what could that be?” the older Dixon said, leaning closer to scrutinize them. “Knocked each other up or somethin’?” he sneered. Both Rick and Daryl kept silence.

“Rick is,” he shrugged once Merle shook that stupid grin off his face at their silence. “s’ why we came here in the first place. Thought ya should know.”

“Whoa,” Merle said, sitting back against his chair. “Hold on, what’s all this?”

“I’m carrying Daryl’s child,” Rick said in a low but firm tone. Merle just stared at him for long minutes with that _yer shittin’ me, right?_ look on his face. Daryl braced himself for the response.

“Oh, boy,” Merle laughed. “This is too good. Ya almost got me there.”

“This ain’t a damn joke, dumbass,” Daryl scoffed. “think we’d come all the way here t’see yer ugly face just t’lie t’ ya?”

“Nah, I’m sure it is,” his brother kept laughing.

“Merle, this isn’t a joke,” Rick tried, getting a bit annoyed himself but keeping his voice low. 

“Right, ‘cuz a knocked up man is no joke,” Merle said, still chuckling.

“It ain’t!” he huffed. The staff member threw Daryl a look so he lowered his voice. “Da hell’s wrong with ya? Think we’d lie with somethin’ like that?”

Merle stopped laughing suddenly, his mirth quickly replaced by anger. “Hey! Ya think I’m n’ idiot?”

“Yeah, right now ya are bein’ one,” Daryl whispered hotly. “Rick’s havin’ my kid. N’ ya better accept it.”

“Yer tryna tell me this pig’s carryin’ my nephew?” the older Dixon spat derisively. He was making an effort to be a jerk toward Rick.

“Fuck, take that shit back, Merle,” he hissed. 

“Daryl, it’s fine,” Rick said softly, trying to calm him down.

“Nah,” he huffed, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “This fucker’s gotta apologize.”

“I ain’t never apologizin’ t’ a cop,” Merle scoffed.

“He ain’t a cop no more. Apologize,” Daryl insisted, anger flaring up at his brother’s disdain toward Rick.

“It’s not necessary,” Rick said, putting a hand on his shoulder before turning to Merle. “Well, Merle, it was nice meeting you,” he said and stood up from his chair. “We came to give you the news, but I guess it was a bit too much for you to handle.”

Merle’s eyes shifted from Rick’s face to his swollen belly. It didn’t look like much yet, and someone who didn’t know would never guess there was a baby growing in there, but anyone knowing just what to look for would notice it immediately. And Merle’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wait. Ya ain’t bullshitting me?”

“Why would we wanna do that?” Rick asked Merle, tilting his head a bit. His brother kept quiet.

“Let’s go, Rick,” he said, standing up as well.

“Nah, hold up,” Merle said, stopping Daryl halfway up his seat. “He’s really knocked up, then? That even possible? Thought ‘t was all made up stories.”

Daryl huffed angrily. “They ain’t. It happens.”

“´Kay, I believe ya, baby bro,” Merle said, shifting his eyes from Rick’s belly, up to his eyes then back to Daryl when he spoke again. “How ya so sure it’s yers? Didn’ ya two break up fer a while?”

“Why ya h’ve t’ be such a fuckin’ prick?” Daryl scolded. “Rick, let’s go.”

“What? I can’t ask, now?” Merle said, giving him a hurt look.

Rick lifted his eyebrows, trying to keep his cool at the accusation. “I can assure you it’s Daryl’s. But if you’re not convinced, and when it’s time, we could do a paternity test to calm your doubts.”

“Don’ indulge ‘im,” he said, looking at Rick. “He’s just bein’ a prick. Let’s go.” 

“Hey, wait up,” Merle said, holding his hands up, “if yer sayin’ the truth, then I guess I h’ve t’ congratulate ya, don’ I?”

“You don’t have to,” Rick replied tightly, visibly done with trying to be nice to Merle. “But maybe you should be happy for your brother.”

Merle kept quiet but his expression spoke of defiance. Daryl knew what it meant. He was just being a dick on purpose, because he wanted to make them feel bad, but it also meant his will was cracking, and damn him if he saw a small flicker of joy in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m happy. Ya just…grabbed me by surprise, s’all,” Merle said in a softer tone. “Lil’ Darleena gonna be a daddy. Ain’t that somethin’. Congratulations. Yer gonna do great…unless yer planin’ on followin’ our daddy’s example.”

Of course that nice speech had to be followed by some biting remark. 

“Piss off,” Daryl grunted.

“Just checkin’,” Merle shrugged then looked at Rick. “I’d keep n’ eye on ‘im I I was ya, Rick.”

Merle’s words cut deep for they rang too close to the truth. It was something Daryl had never really given much thought before for he’d never held remotely possible to become a father. But hearing them now, they stirred a long buried fear in him. 

 

“Told ya he was gonna be a prick,” Daryl said as they drove back home.

Rick just smiled. “I was expecting a lot worse.”

“Called ya a pig,” Daryl scoffed. “I warned ‘im not to.”

“Hardly the first time I’ve been called that,” Rick smiled reassuringly, briefly breaking his gaze from the road ahead.

“It don’ matter. He’s just a prick,” he sighed, rubbing at is neck muscles. 

“He’s our child’s uncle,” Rick said softly. “He’ll come around.” 

Daryl snorted. “Some uncle.”

Once home, he watched Rick greedily eating out of a pickle jar, along with a grilled cheese sandwich and a slice of his favorite cake with a happy little smile on his face. 

“You sure you’re not hungry?” Rick asked for the tenth time. Daryl shook his head and continued admiring his pregnant love.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the former sheriff said after putting the cap back on the jar and wiping his hands on a napkin. “And I need you to stop.”

Daryl looked at his propped up feet on the kitchen table. “Watcha talkin’ ‘bout?”

“You know…that thing Merle said,” Rick explained. “Please, don’t even consider it. It’s not true.”

“How’d ya know?” he sighed. “I got Dixon blood. We’re violent drunks.”

“I’ve seen you drunk and it’s not the case,” Rick assured, then cocked his head to the side. “You’re just a bit cranky.”

“Mah daddy wasn’t always violent,” he grunted, fixedly picking at his nails and studying them close to avoid staring into Rick’s concerned blue eyes. “n’ ya know am an asshole when I’m drunk. Call it by its name.”

Rick let out a long sigh as he shook his head. “Don’t do this, Daryl.”

“Do what?” he huffed, shrugging.

“Please, don’t pull away from me. Not again,” Rick said with intent and turning to face him. “You’re not like them.”

He grunted in response, but the words did reassure him. It was true. Merle was a lot more like their dad and not even he would pull crap like that. Daryl let the last remains of his worries slide off. He wouldn’t let Merle’s words get to him. Not again. 

 

——————————————

 

The next day, Carl called him telling him he didn’t have class the next day and he wanted to spend the night. Rick was a bit reluctant after the incident with the window but it’d been days since and nothing else had happened and was starting to think it’d been a onetime thing. But he could be wrong, of course. Those groups, they liked to intimidate and persecute, and many times, their victimizations ended in brutal beatings, or worse, with the death of said victims, something Rick had experienced firsthand at least twice during his years of service. 

He shuddered at the memories.

As he pulled over at Lori’s, Rick let his hand hover over the steering wheel, intent on letting Carl know he was there, but moved his hand away from the honk and turned off the engine instead. Taking a deep breath and taking off his belt, Rick opened his door and got out of the car. 

After a second of hesitance, he started walking up the steps toward what used to be his home. He hadn’t walked up those steps in years. 

The door opened after just two knocks and like it was to be expected on a week day, Lori greeted him on the other side.

“Rick?” she said; her big eyes wide with shock. 

“Lori,” he greeted tightly, meeting her gaze with quite a bit of effort.

She stood there, mouth open as if trying to get words out of her mouth but they refused to come out. “Hi, Rick,” she managed out eventually. “C—Carl’s almost ready.”

“Good,” he said, nodding awkwardly.

“Um…Would you like to come in?” she offered after a heavy silence.

“Some other time,” Rick replied, offering a polite smile. It was something. And she returned it in the same awkward fashion. 

“How have you been? I heard about—Carl told me about the— uh...” Lori said, struggling to find the right words. 

As he stood there in front of his ex-wife, all the anger and resentment he could’ve sworn he’d feel when he finally faced her again was just not there.

“The pregnant thing,” he finished for her. She nodded, stealing a furtive glance at his mid section. “I’ve been doing okay.”

Lori smiled brightly in response, but it seemed forced and her eyes were bright with tears. Her voice was tight as she spoke, like she was trying not to cry. “Congratulations, Rick. Daryl must be really happy. Both of you.” 

“Thank you,” he sighed. “We are. It was very unexpected, but yeah.”

“I can imagine,” Lori nodded then paused, giving him an earnest look. “I’m happy for you Rick. I really am.”

“Thank you,” Rick said, staring at her with intent.

Just then, Carl appeared from behind Lori, watching them with suspicion. “Dad?” 

Lori turned to their son. “You’re ready?”

“Yeah,” the teen said with caution. 

“Well, we’ll be heading off,” Rick said and stepped away from the door. “Oh, and thanks for the jacket. It was really thoughtful.”

Lori smiled fondly and nodded. “It was nothing… but you’re welcome.”

Carl gave her a half hug and they walked toward the car side by side. “What was that about?” Carl asked once they were seated inside the vehicle.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted us to talk,” he frowned, starting the engine and driving away.

“I did.”

“So?”

“I—I don’t know,” Carl shrugged. “It’s just weird, I guess.”

“Well, we talked and the world didn’t end,” he said, briefly looking at Carl then back at the road. “I’d say it’s a big step.”

“You barely talked,” Carl said. “I heard you.”

“Consider this as me laying some much needed groundwork,” Rick sighed. “It’ll be better next time.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Carl said after a long silence.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…you know,” Carl shrugged.

“What?”

The teen took a deep breath. “You’re just … not good at facing these things.” 

It stung a bit, hearing his son telling him that, but Carl was right. And he had to do something about it. “Well, I’m trying to change that.”

Carl looked at him and smiled. And if he squinted, Rick could see a bit of pride in his son’s eyes. 

“We have to stop by the store. I ate all the food,” he confessed bashfully, explaining the sudden turn in direction. 

“So what do you want to eat?” he asked while pushing the cart down the dairy aisle and grabbing some yogurt, trying hard to ignore the stares a few people where giving him. Carl seemed not to care, but he did notice.

“Is there cereal left?”

“Nope, that’s gone too. Go grab some, would you? I’ll go get the bread.”

“kay,” Carl said and disappeared around the aisle. Rick made his way to the bread section and grabbed the usual brand they used. He was checking the expiration date when someone pressed against him from behind and hissed in his ear “want me to fill you up, fag?” right before he was brutally shoved against the shelf. It happened too fast for Rick to react, but at least he managed to steady himself in time not to completely fall against the shelves and take them down with him while instinctively protecting his belly.

“Dad!” Carl called and ran to him as Rick steadied himself, glaring at the man who’d pushed his dad as he walked away without hurry. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “s’fine.”

“Who was that?” Carl asked with anger in his voice. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Rick stared at the man as he turned left at the end of the aisle, disappearing from their sight. It could be one of the people who’d smashed his window or someone else entirely. No matter what, none of the options were good.

“No,” he shook his head and looked at his son just in time to see the indignation in his young face. 

“Why not?”

“It’s not worth it.”

“Daryl would’ve done something,” Carl bristled.

“Well, he’s not here,” he replied, putting the bread packages he’d knocked over back in their shelves.

Carl scowled; his hands in tight fists. “Then I’m going to—”

“No, Carl,” he called, grabbing his son’s arm to stop him from going after the man. “They could be dangerous.”

“They?” Carl asked with a deep frown, touching his arm when he didn’t answer. “Dad?”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s just pay for these and go home.”

Out in the parking lot, Rick kept an eye out as they loaded the car with their groceries. No one seemed to be paying them heed and there was no sign of the man who’d pushed him.

Rick started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, heading home.

Back home, Carl still seemed a bit upset so he did his best to engage the teen in conversation as they had dinner.

“So how’s …Enid, is it?” he asked suddenly.

Carl just glanced at him with distrust, but humored him anyway. “Yes, Enid. And she’s fine.”

“She your girlfriend again?” Rick asked with a slight smile before taking a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

Carl just stared at him. “It’s not gonna work, dad.” 

Rick sighed and took a sip of water to wash down the food before speaking again but his son beat him to it.

“Dad?” Carl asked. “At the supermarket…what did you mean by ‘they’?”

Rick sighed, meeting Carl’s eyes with caution, struggling with how to proceed and wondering if it was wise to tell him about the other night.

“Carl—” he was about to answer, but a knock on the door interrupted him. He looked at his watch as he stood up. It was six thirty. “It’s probably Daryl. Be right back.”

He made his way to the door, hesitating as he heard the tires of a vehicle screeching as they drove off with haste. After a short pause, he hurried to open it and was met by nothing but a message written on the ground. The same hateful slur from the other night, only this time; it was spray painted in his walkway in big, bold letters. 

Rick closed the door behind him carefully and ran down to the curve to get a glimpse of the vehicle, but they were already gone. “Cowards,” he huffed and turned on his heels to inspect the message. 

Rick was hunched down beside it when Daryl arrived just a couple minutes later. 

“Oh, hey Daryl,” he greeted distractedly.

“Hey yerself. Whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Look,” he said, standing up. Daryl walked over to him and pecked him on the cheek. Rick startled but smiled and returned it with an air kiss. 

Daryl looked down at the spray painted insult and huffed out in anger. 

“When’d this happen?”

“A few minutes before you got here,” Rick explained and gave Daryl a somber glance. “They even knocked on the door.”

“Fuckers,” Daryl muttered under his breath and turned to him. “Ya saw ‘em?”

“Nah. they drove off before I opened the door.”

“Who wrote that?” Carl asked from the doorway.

“Carl—“

“Was it the same man who pushed you at the store?”

“What ya sayin’ ‘bout, kid?” Daryl asked with deep concern. “Someone pushed him?”

“Yeah, he fell against one of the shelves,” Carl explained, in an almost accusatory tone.

“Carl that’s not—” Rick sighed, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Why don’t you go back inside and let me talk to Daryl?”

“What’d he look like?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous tone as he stepped closer to Carl. He knew that tone.

Rick sighed. “Daryl, what’re you doing? You can’t possibly think you’d—” 

They both ignored him as Carl answered the question. “Tall, dark hair...I think he had a mustache; around dad’s age maybe?”

Rick looked at Carl in awe. The teen had really gotten a good look at the man, unlike him who’d only seen his retreating back.

“I know who that fucker is,” Daryl grunted out of the blue and made his way to his bike, hopping back on it and starting the engine with fierce determination. 

“W—where are you going, Daryl?” Rick followed after him. 

“I’m gonna end this,” the hunter declared and drove off.

“No, you can’t do that. Daryl!” Rick called but Daryl was already gone. Heavy worry settled in his stomach as he watched his boyfriend’s form disappearing down the road. Running his hands through his hair in frustration, he turned to his son with a scowl. “Get back inside.”


	13. Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YaY! Finally an update. I'm sorry for the wait even if I said I'd try to update sooner this time. My concentration skills are lacking and writer’s block keeps beating my ass. Still, Hope you enjoy!! :D. And thanks for all the support!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****EDITED****
> 
> So I know now that the savior played by Steven Ogg is named Simon...so I changed it. I hope is not too confusing but I just couldn't not change it. 
> 
> Long story short, James is now Simon.

Daryl rode his bike fast and with intent. He would find that asshole and set him in his damn place. 

He knew him of course. He had the luck to know just about every asshole in the county, courtesy of his brother. He’ll, he’d even drank himself unconscious with the fucker a couple of times.

He parked his bike just outside Simon's run down property. The man’s truck wasn’t there, so he sat on the front steps to wait for him to arrive.

“Dixon! What brings ya here? It’s been a while. Here for a kickback?” the man greeted when he arrived a few minutes later, gesturing with his arms as he got off his truck and stepped closer. Daryl stood up and flicked his half consumed cigarette toward the street. “I ain’t holding right now, though. We’re in the process of holding,” the man continued as he stepped closer, “just a couple more hours.”

Daryl scoffed. As if it was necessary for Simon to tell him that. He could smell the fumes coming from inside since before he got off his bike. It was a real wonder how no one had found this guy’s kitchen yet. But then again, maybe it wasn’t. 

“I ain’t like mah brother, n’ I ain’t here fer yer shit,” he spat, and fisting his hands tightly, he launched at the larger man and punched the asshole right in the center of his face, knocking him to floor with the sheer force of it— the element of surprised helped quite a lot. 

“Woah!” the man exclaimed, holding the bridge of his injured nose tightly. “Da hell’s gotten into ya, Dixon?”

“Stay away from ‘im,” he huffed, looking down at the man. 

“Hold up, hold up— who do I have to stay away from?” Simon asked in a mocking tone as he got more comfortable where he lay, leaning his weigh on his right elbow. 

“Ya know,” Daryl hissed, narrowing his eyes.

“Nah—I’m gonna need you t’ be more specific.”

“The man ya pushed at the store,” Daryl huffed, “ya just went t’ his place and spray painted some shit on his entry. Sound familiar?”

“Just that first part; ya lost me on the second,” Simon said, rubbing under his nose then pointing his now bloody finger at him. “Why is this man so important to you, if ya don’ mind me askin’?”

Daryl just glared at the man. 

“None of yer damn business,” he hissed, although he knew damn well they knew exactly who Rick was to him. 

The man threw him a toothy grin and spoke with sarcasm. “Could this man I _happened_ to _accidentally_ push be your boo?”

Daryl scoffed. “Ya’ve all been itchin’ to get at me since Merle got in, h’ve ya? That’s why yer goin’ after ‘im?”

“Hey, I respect yer brother,” Simon stated, pointing his finger at him, still managing to look threatening from his position on the floor. “And I have no intentions of goin’ against you.”

“Right, ‘Cuz Merle didn’ say a word when he got caught holdin’ yer stuff. Like I said, I ain’t like mah brother…”

“Yer threatenin’ me, Dixon?” Simon chuckled. “Ya should be thankin’ me, not threatenin’ me.”

“Da hell should I be thankin’ ya fer? An’ I ain’t threatenin’ ya. Not if ya leave ‘im be,” Daryl grunted. “Ya got somethin’ against me, ya come t’me.”

“Alright,” Simon said, “got it, friend.” 

Daryl glared at him and was walking away when Simon spoke again.

“Is the baby yours?”

He stopped on his tracks and angrily strutted back to the man. 

“Ya gonna kick a man when he’s down?” Simon said smiling; not even attempting to cover himself. Daryl ignored him and grabbing his shirt, pulled him closer to his face. 

“Touch him again, and I’ll put an arrow through yer skull,” Daryl hissed.

“I promise, friend. I won’t be touching your boo again,” he stated, showing up his palms in surrender and flashing him a disturbing grin, “but keep in mind; I’m only speaking for myself.”

“I ain’t yer friend,” he grunted, and shoved him back on the ground. “n’ tell the assholes who wrote that shit on Rick’s entry that I’m gonna be waitin’ fer them.”

Daryl climbed on his bike and threw one more glare at the man still lying in the same position. When he saw him looking, he waved at him, grinning. That man could become a real problem for them.

He rode home with sore knuckles and a heavy heart. 

Rick came out of the house and met him on the driveway. “Daryl, what happened?”

He turned off the engine and got off his bike. “Nothin’”

“What d’you mean nothing?” Rick bristled.

“Just punched some asshole,” he replied sullenly.

“You punched him without knowing it was actually him who did it? What the hell were you thinking? Carl could’ve been mistaken,” Rick sighed, running a hand through his face. “We should’ve called the station, not take matters into our own hands.”

“My hands,” he corrected, although Rick was right. He wasn’t making things better. He’d probably made it worse. “And it _was_ him. Said so himself,” Daryl gruffed and walked toward the spray painted insult. “This, though…this was someone else. But still them.” 

Rick let out a long sigh and pressed his palm against his forehead. “You keep saying them. How many are we talking about?”

“m’not sure. But enough t’ worry ‘bout it.”

“But you know them.”

He nodded.

“And they’re friends with your brother?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said. 

Rick frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. “Then why are they screwing with you?”

“They ain’t. Not directly. It’s ya who they got in their sight. They ain’t gonna do shit t’ me. They respect Merle fer some reason, n’ Merle told ‘em a while ago not to mess with me when they found out; threatened them. But now they know ‘bout ya thanks to yer bud Shane. Now they can get t’ me without actually gettin’ t’ me.”

Rick bit his lower lip and shook his head. “Why’re you so sure it was Shane’s fault? Someone must’ve seen us if there were rumors about it.”

He shrugged. “Could’ve been, but why didn’ they bother ya before?”

Rick paused, shoulders sagging. “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. I’m carrying your child. They would’ve found out anyway.”

Daryl studied Rick’s troubled expression. “Yer right. It ain’t his fault,” he grunted. “And it’s gonna be alright.”

Rick stared at him then back at the spray paint morosely. “Yeah.”

 

———————————— 

 

 

“Carl—” he tried again, rubbing his brow in frustration, but got cut off.

“No, dad, I’m staying,” Carl said firmly. He had that set on look on his face, the same look Lori teased the teen about having inherited from his dad. 

“Dammit, kid. Listen t’ yer dad,” Daryl barked, pacing around the living room with his hands on his hips and scowling at the stubborn teen.

“No!” Carl stood up from his seat defiantly, to make his point. “I want to be here if they come back. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Rick let out a drawn out breath. He knew this would happen. It’s why he didn’t want Carl to know in the first place. But telling his son _It’s better if you don’t spend the night for a while_ , was obviously not enough for the teen and Rick had been forced to tell him the truth. And now, he didn’t want to leave his pregnant dad to possible danger.

“He ain’t gonna be alone,” Daryl intercepted. “An’ I ain’t gonna let ‘em get near yer dad.”

“But what if they’re too many? What if they come in, beat you up then come for dad next?” Carl said, harshly staring at the archer.

“That ain’t gonna happen,” Daryl huffed, but Rick knew it was a possibility, and the hunter knew it too.

“How’re you so sure?” Carl argued. “If they hurt dad, they’ll hurt the baby too.”

A shadow crossed over Daryl’s features at his son’s words and kept quiet.

“They wouldn’t dare to enter a former cop’s house. They know I have my gun,” Rick said in a soothing tone, even if he didn’t feel it.

Carl sat back on his chair. “Then I can stay.”

Rick sighed. “No, Carl.”

“Why not?”

“Because I say so,” he huffed firmly, having had enough of his son’s stubbornness, and stood as a mean to end the conversation, otherwise, Carl would find a way to make him buckle under. The teen was persuasive when he wanted to get his way. “Go get you things. I’ll drive you home.”

They drive to Lori’s place in silence, with Daryl behind the wheel. The archer hadn’t wanted Rick to come, but he also didn’t want him to stay in the house alone, so to say the older man was pissed was an understatement. He hated to be backed into a corner.

Rick eyed the hunter sideways and couldn’t help but smile at the stern look on his face. Reaching out, he placed a comforting hand on the man’s thigh and left it there the rest of the way.

“I’m gonna try to explain to Lori what this is all about without scaring her,” he said when Daryl parked outside the house. Carl stepped out of the car and slammed the door closed, strutting angrily toward the door and knocked harshly on it. Rick followed and smiled tightly when Lori opened the door.

“Oh? Hi,” she greeted and frowned when Carl walked past her to his room without a word. “What happened? I thought he was gonna stay with you.”

Rick sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“What is it?” She asked, frowning.

“It’s just a precaution, but it’s best if he spends the night here,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Lori’s frown deepened and she crossed her arms across her chest. “Rick? Is there something wrong?”

Rick tried to avoid making eye contact but it was late and the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Someone’s been bothering us. Nothing serious, but it happened again today and I thought it’d be safer if Carl stayed here tonight.”

Lori reached out about to put her hand on his arm as a comforting gesture like she always used to, but stopped herself and let it hover just above his shoulder for a moment then brought it to her lips. “Did you tell the police?”

“We did,” Rick said, gesturing toward the car. “There’s really nothing to worry about. Like I said—it’s just a precaution.”

She stared at him for long seconds before she broke eye contact. “Rick, if you ever need anything, no matter the time…I’m here.”

Rick smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Lori. The same goes to you. Anything weird happens and you call me immediately. Okay?”

She nodded. “I will. Take care.”

“You too,” he said and made his way back to the car.

“Yer on speakin’ terms now?”Daryl asked as he put on the seat belt.

“Uh, yeah, I talked to her today. With everything that happened I forgot to tell you,” Rick said distractedly and looked up and down the street to make sure no one suspicious was around. 

“How’d it go?” the older man asked as he turned on the engine.

Rick lifted his eyebrows and sighed. “Pretty well, actually,” he said vaguely and leaned closer to the stereo to put on one of his CDs. Daryl glared at him and grunted in displeasure, but did nothing other than that. Rick didn’t even have to use his _we need to lighten the mood_ speech. He didn’t say how worried he really was, either.

 

———————————

 

 

Daryl sat in an armchair by the window. He wanted to see those fuckers face to face. If he had their faces and names, they might back down.

“You’re planning on sleeping here, are you?”

Daryl shrugged and kept looking out the window; Rick’s colt at hand. “I ain’t plannin’ on sleepin’”

“Then I’ll stay too,” Rick said and popped down on his lap. Daryl hummed in delight and wrapped his free arm around the younger man.

“Ya need t’ rest,” Daryl said, sneaking his hand under Rick’s clothes to caress their growing child. 

Rick grunted and shifted in his lap, getting more comfortable. “You need to rest too. You have work tomorrow.”

“Ya alright?” he asked when Rick stayed quiet for too long.

“Huh? Uh, yeah—it’s just… Carl, you know?”

“Hey, he’ll understand,” he said, tucking a stray curl behind Rick’s ear.

“I haven’t seen him this angry in a while,” Rick rasped, “just when things were better between us.”

Daryl reached over to cress Rick’s thigh to comfort him, returning the gesture from the car. “He’s just worried ‘bout ya. He ain’t angry.”

Rick turned to look at him. “Do you think we’re exaggerating?”

“Nah,” he said curtly and started caressing Rick’s swollen stomach. 

“Will it get worse?”

Daryl’s stomach dropped at those words. Rick should feel safe, not going through this uncertainty. Not ever, least of all now when he was expecting a child. It wasn’t fair. He should be happy and worrying only about what color to paint the baby’s room or what his next craving was gonna be. Not this.

“I ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen t’ ya or the baby,” he said firmly and leaned closer to kiss Rick’s cheek. 

Rick nodded and shifted again.

“Ya keep wigglin’ like that yer gonna make me hard,” he huffed, trying to lighten the mood and keep Rick’s mind off the subject, if just for a little while. All the stress couldn’t be good for him.

“You’re not hard already?” Rick said, twisting his torso to look at him with wide eyes.

“Not yet.”

“Wow,” Rick teased and wiggled his bum against his crotch again, with the sole intent to make him hard. It worked, of course and soon he was sporting an erection. “You were right,” Rick said with honest surprise.

“Yer distractin’ me from my task, Grimes,” Daryl smirked, but still bucked his hips up for Rick to really feel him.

“Just a few minutes,” Rick mewled, pressing his ass down against his crotch. “You don’t even have to leave your post.” 

Daryl huffed and pressed his mouth against Rick’s neck, speaking softly. “Just a few minutes. I gotta stand guard.”

“Deal,” Rick said and immediately stood up and started unbuttoning his pants, pausing to turn off every light in the house so no one could see them from outside. Daryl freed his now fully hard cock as it ached to be buried deep inside Rick. 

When Rick came back—pants and underwear down to his knees— he sat back down on Daryl’s lap, slowly and carefully while he kept his cock lined up with the warm hole as it began to sheath his whole length. Daryl grunted in pleasure.

Rick did most of the work, rocking his hips back and forth and lifting himself up from time to time, keeping his back pressed to Daryl’s chest and his fingers interlocked with Daryl’s, huffing and panting softly each time the archer’s cock grazed that special place inside him. 

It was a mess when they came, but it was worth it.

Rick fell asleep like that, with Daryl’s arms wrapped around his middle. 

He lasted a good while awake but eventually gave into tiredness and the delicious warmth Rick’s limp body on top of him provided. 

No one came back that night to bother them.

 

“I’m gonna talk to Shane,” Rick said out of the blue the next morning while they were eating breakfast in their lovemaking armchair. 

“Why?” he asked around a mouthful of toast.

“You said one of those men has a brother working at the station. Maybe Shane knows something,” Rick reasoned. 

“Think it’ll help?” He gruffed and shoveled the last forkful of eggs from his plate into his mouth.

“Can’t hurt to ask,” Rick said with a shrug. 

“True,” Daryl sighed and started chewing on his bottom lip, then patted Rick on the side for him to let him stand up. “I gotta go. Be careful, Rick…if you go out. Anything and you call me.”

He desperately wanted to tell Rick not to go out of the house, but really, where was safe anymore?

“I will. And you too be careful,” the younger man said and leaned closer to kiss him softly before standing up. He grunted into the kiss and held unto Rick’s waist for the couple of seconds it lasted.

“Later,” he said, smiling into the kiss and pressing his hand on Rick’s belly.

Rick smiled back. “Later.”

 

——————————

 

 

Shane was unsurprisingly easy to find. He still ate his lunch at the same place they used to eat back when they were still best friends and partners while talking about their problems. Well, _he_ talked about his problems. Shane just gloated about his multiple sexual encounters.

“I need to speak to you?” he said, leaning over the passenger’s window of the patrol. “Do you have a minute?”

“Rick?” Shane eyed him with surprise. “Uh—sure.”

The younger man got out of the car and stood beside him; both men leaning their backs against the patrol for support. 

“Before you say anything else,” Shane said, shifting his eyes to his stomach again and fixing them there. “How long are you?”

Rick smiled, pushing his hands deeper inside his pockets. “About eighteen weeks.”

Shane chuckled. “Wow, this is huge.” He smiled and let Shane pat him in the back. “Congratulations, man.”

“Thank you,” he smiled bashfully.

Shane slowly withdrew his arm, turning serious all of a sudden. “Hey, Rick, about Lori and me—”

Rick pressed his lips together and forced himself to listen. He’d been putting it off for far too long.

“—I’m sorry, man. We didn’t intend for it to happen. It just did. You’re my best friend. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” he was quick to say. “But you did.”

Shane sighed loudly, running a hand through his head. “I’m sorry, Rick. I wish I could take it back.”

“You can’t,” Rick said staring ahead, “but I accept your apologies.”

Shane paused and looked at him. “You’re serious?”

He sighed. “It was a mistake. And I forgive you for it, both of you.”

Shane grimaced and peeked at him guiltily. “It wasn’t Lori’s fault. She was vulnerable. Hell, she was terrified of losing you…and I made my move just when she needed someone the most.”

“You needed someone too.”

Shane looked up at that and nodded slowly, his eyes filling up with tears. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. But then you came through…and I lost you anyway.”

He’d never seen Shane like that, with so much emotion in his eyes; honest pain over losing him.

Looking back on things, Rick couldn’t bring himself to be angry at them anymore. Maybe if Shane and Lori hadn’t done that, he would’ve never been with Daryl and he would’ve never gotten pregnant with his child. In spite of everything, Rick was happier than he’d been in a long time. 

“I’m still here,” Rick said meaningfully and threw Shane a brief, smirking glance. 

“You are,” Shane smirked and nodded then abruptly changed the subject, conspicuously uncomfortable with such emotional moments. Rick was thankful for it too. “So how excited is Carl about being an older brother?”

“Very. He’s already protective of it,” Rick said, smiling brightly down at his belly, but it soon faltered as he recalled the previous day’s events. 

“What is it?” Shane asked with concern.

He paused and took a deep breath. “Yesterday, someone spray painted the word fag in my entry…in plain daylight… with Carl in the house. They even knocked on the door. And just before that, some man pushed me against the shelves at the supermarket. Carl saw it.”

Shane seemed troubled by the information. “Both these events happened yesterday?”

Rick sighed. “Yes.” 

“Show me.”


	14. Setback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***EDIT: I PREVIOSLY CALLED THE SAVIOR PLAYED BY STEVEN OGG, JAMES, BUT NOW THAT I KNOW HE'LL BE CALLED SIMON IN THE SHOW, I CHANGED IT. SO JAMES IS NOW SIMON. HOPE IT'S NOT CONFUSING, BUT I HAD TO CHANGE IT.***
> 
> Update!! Finally! I'm just recently crawling out of my writer's block. I apologize for the wait. Thanks for all the support!!!
> 
> Unbeta'd. Every mistake is mine and I apologize for each.

 

 

Sitting on is hunches, Shane observed the spray paint carefully, wearing a troubled look on his face. 

“I’m gonna add this to the report,” he said standing up and took a picture of it before turning to face him. “The man that pushed you—can you describe him?” 

“I just saw his back,” he replied quickly, not wanting to give out information that would get Daryl in trouble for punching that man. 

“You said Carl saw him…” Shane prompted, perking up his brow. 

“Just his back,” he brushed off, feigning indifference.

His former partner threw him a skeptical look. “Did he say something?” 

“Nothing important,” Rick shrugged. His unsure tone would rat him out for sure. Shane knew him too well.

Shane paused and stared at him broodingly. He was busted. “Remember that kid a few years back that got beat up badly?” 

Rick nodded somberly. Of course he remembered. The kid was a mess. His life was hanging by a thread when they found him. He pulled through eventually, but it took him many months to fully recover. They never found the aggressors, but it was widely known around town that the kid was beaten up for his sexual orientation. And not just that, he’d been previously harassed for months before the beating, according to his parents. 

Recalling the event did nothing to help with the growing fear in his gut. 

“What your point?” Rick asked, instinctively placing a protective hand over his growing belly and letting out a shaky breath. 

“C’mon, Rick. You’re smarter than this,” Shane said in a slightly mocking tone. “You don’t think that by any chance this is related to the man who pushed you in the supermarket? Daryl, he seemed to know a lot about this people when we talked. And I hate to be the one to crack it up to you, Rick, but it sounds awfully like they’re following you. They probably know where Carl lives as well.”

“Alright! I get it. So I’m screwed,” he snapped, pressing his fingertips against his closed eyelids, trying hard to keep himself from panicking in front of Shane. 

“You ain’t screwed,” Shane soothed, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m not gonna let it get to that. But I need information. Forget I’m a cop for a second. I’m asking you as a friend who has permit to use a gun.”

Rick kept quiet for a moment, weighing his options. He didn’t have many and it’d be very helpful to have Shane by his side if anything went down.

“I don’t know him,” he paused to clear his throat, “but Daryl does. He’s not who did this, but he’s still part of them.” 

“Does Daryl know where this man lives?”

“Shane,” Rick sighed, “Daryl took care of it already.”

“How exactly?”

Rick stared at the younger man in silence.

“I’m not gonna repeat it at the station,” he said, offering a reassuring smile.

Rick nodded and took a deep breath, letting himself trust Shane. “He hit him.”

“And how did he know who he was? You said you didn’t see him.”

“Carl did…just a glimpse. Daryl knew him and made the connection,” he explained. The lawman nodded in understanding

“What if he got the wrong guy?” Shane asked, putting his hands on his hips and making a gesture with his head, as if he knew in which direction the man lived. “He even made sure to check first?”

“Yes, of course, he did. Daryl wouldn’t punch someone for no reason,” Rick quickly jumped in the hunter’s defense, slightly irritated by Shane’s probing.

“Alright,” Shane said, cocking his head and eyeing him skeptically for a moment before letting out a drawn out sigh and looking off toward the street. “There’s not much else I can do for now.” Rick hummed, nodding. He knew that of course, but having Shane know what he knew gave him a strange sense of relief. He’d get more information from Daryl later. “But—” Shane paused, drawing his attention. “I want you to give me a call if anything else happens. And I mean anything. You know the drill: see someone suspicious rounding the house, a car parked down the street you don’t recognize; you write down the plate number and call me.”

“Shane—” he began but got cut off.

“Now, I know you don’t like asking for help…it’s why I need you to give me your word.”

Rick smirked and nodded. “I’ll call you.” 

“Good. I gotta head back now,” Shane said, adjusting his holster. “Gonna be doing some rounds around here just in case.”

“Thanks, Shane,” he said, making the younger man stop on his tracks and turn to face him. 

“Hey, man. It’s nothing. It’s my job.” Shane smiled at him before turning back to the patrol and going on his way.

Rick stepped inside and immediately unbuttoned and unzipped his too tight jeans while padding his way over to his couch and letting himself fall heavily on top, grunting in the process. He stretched his back for a moment and let go, groaning with pleasure at the momentary relief before sagging forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, bringing up a hand to rub at his tired eyes with index and thumb. 

It’d been so stressful lately Rick hadn’t even given himself time to think about his pregnancy and the growing physical pains caused by it. He’d barely complained so far but it’d gotten worse this morning and hadn’t lessened throughout the day as he’d hoped it would. There was also a constant, dull ache in his hips. It was dim still, but it would intensify no doubt. No wonder there. He had narrower hips than a woman. Dr Greene had warned him that it could turn quite uncomfortable as his pregnancy progressed. And there was that fluttering in his stomach that could either be gas or the baby. He smiled at the thought and rested back against the couch to place a hand over the swell.

He must’ve dozed off at some point for a sharp knock on the door woke him with a start. He jumped on his feet in an instant and his hand instinctively flew to his no longer there gun holster. It’d been long enough since he’d last worn it, but he’d never felt the need to do that before today.

“Shit,” he hissed. He’d left his gun in the car so Shane wouldn’t question him about it. They knocked again and Rick’s stomach contracted with fear. Taking a deep breath, he slowly made his way toward the door, leaning closer to look through the peephole. Sighing with relief, he zipped his jeans back up and opened the door.

“Carl? What are you doing here?” 

“I can’t come during the day, now?” Carl asked in a hurt tone as he walked past him and into the house. 

“No, Carl. It’s not that I don’t want you here,” he sighed, closing the door, he turned to give his son a stern look. “Did Lori bring you?” 

“No. I came here on my own. I can do that now, you know? I’m not a kid anymore,” the teen answered calmly.

“I’m not trying to treat you as a kid. I’m just trying to keep you safe. It’s why I would’ve wish you would have told me you were coming so I could pick you up.” 

“Well, I didn’t come alone, okay?” Carl said, dumping his backpack unceremoniously on the floor by the couch. “Shane brought me. He saw me walking here and offered me a lift. I didn’t wanna tell you that, ‘cuz I knew you’d get upset.”

“Shane, huh?” Rick asked, perking up his eyebrows. “I didn’t hear his car.”

Cark smiled bashfully, “I told him to drop me off a house earlier.”

Rick smirked at his son’s audacity, placing his hands on his hips and shifting on his feet. “Is that so?”

Carl nodded. “Are you angry?”

He answered with a sigh. He was actually relieved Carl had gotten a lift from Shane. It certainly couldn’t hurt if those men saw his son getting a lift from the policeman. 

“A bit, but I’m glad you told me,” Rick said, placing a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “You still attempted to come here alone.”

Carl lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Well, next time you wanna do that, you call me first, okay?” Rick said and Carl nodded. He gave his son a questioning look. “Does Lori know you’re here?”

The teen didn’t answer. He just ducked his head further.

“Carl, promise me you won’t do that again,” he said sternly. 

His son nodded, meeting his eyes again. “I promise.”

Rick smiled. “Good.”

The phone rang and he gave his son a pointed look. “That must be your mom,” he said and went to answer it, chuckling as Carl cringed.

As it turned out, Lori was close to a nervous breakdown. Rick calmed her down and assured her Carl was safe and sound with him, promising to take him home soon. The teen wasn’t happy about that, of course, but only showed it through a scowl instead of an outburst, showing his on-the-rise maturity. 

“So how was school?” he said, forcing a casual tone while stealing nervous glances through the rear view mirror every few seconds to check if the white truck that’d started following them near home was still there.

“Boring,” Carl replied, resting his head against the seat. “The coach asked about you. He sends you his best and says to take care of yourself. I guess he found out about this,” he said, caressing the bump briefly. “I didn’t tell him, though. I don’t know how he found out.”

Rick risked a quick glance at his son to smirk at him. “Your coach?” 

“He’s not _my_ coach. Everybody calls him that.”

“Oh? Well, tell him thank you when you see him next.”

He dropped Carl home. Lori was waiting for them by the curve. She thanked him for bringing him and even gave him a brief hug.

“Would you like to come in for a coffee, maybe?” She offered quickly as she pulled away, standing there awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he said, ducking his head, “but, maybe next time.”

Rick didn’t leave until she closed the door. 

The white truck that he assumed had been following him, parked outside a house about three blocks down the street. A father and his two blond girls got out from it. Both girls raced to the door where their mother was waiting for them, happy to be home. 

He was starting to get paranoid.

Dale called him a few blocks from home and asked him if he could stop by the workshop for a moment. They hadn’t talked about the possible job yet, but according to Daryl, the job was his if he wanted it. He’d tried not to get too excited about it before he heard it from Dale, but now, he allowed himself a bit of thrill.

Rick entered the workshop hoping to see Daryl working under some vehicle, all dirty and covered in grease. It was a nice mental image. The hunter wasn’t there, though, so Rick made his way to Dale’s office, following Carol’s melodic voice chorused by a few grunts from said hunter.

It was suddenly hard to breath for his throat and chest tightened and his stomach dropped at the sight. They didn’t see him right away so he got to witness just how close Daryl was holding Carol as he planted a tender kiss on the top of her head, pulling away just enough to whisper against her ear. She smiled brightly in response at whatever it was the hunter told her and looked up at him with eyes dripping with love. 

It was nothing, really, nothing to bat an eyelash for. It was just a hug between friends. The thing was that Daryl wasn’t the hugging type. It took Rick months to have Daryl hug him back comfortably. And it only happened when they were alone. But from what he’d come to notice, what Carol and Daryl had was something special. 

He had to get out of there.

Just as he attempted to leave without getting noticed, Dale walked in and hindered his escape.

“Rick,” the elderly man said with enthusiasm. “Come join us, we’re celebrating.”

“No—I just—“ he stuttered. “I gotta go.”

“What do you mean you have to go? You just got here. C’mon. They’re in my office. Carol got the job.”

“She did?” Rick took in a deep breath. So Daryl was giving her a congratulating hug. It was just that. He felt like an idiot now.

He let Dale take him by the arm to his office. Daryl greeted him with a frown. Rick’s stomach dropped even further than before at the cold greeting.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” 

“Rick, sweetie, how are you?” Carol said quickly, wrapping him in a tight, welcoming hug, one he returned weakly.

“Somethin’ happened? Ya okay?” Daryl approached him when he parted from Carol, looking him up and down and touching him here and there, searching for injuries. Relief washed over Rick as he realized Daryl’s glare and harsh tone was merely out of concern. 

“I’m fine. I came because Dale called me,” he said, soothing out Daryl’s worries, and turned to Carol with a smile. “I hear you got the job. Congratulations.” 

They hugged again. This time, he returned it tightly.

“Thank you. I’m so happy… and scared. This is a big step for me,” she chirped, slowly parting form their second embrace. 

“I’m happy for you,” he replied sincerely. “When do you start?”

“In a week.”

“Yes, and I’m going to need you by then,” Dale added, lifting a bushy eyebrow at him. “Can I count on you?”

“You can,” he nodded with a smile. Daryl squeezed his upper arm, giving him a tiny smirk. He returned it, letting the remains of his irrational fear fade away and replacing it with excitement.

 

***

 

They went home together, Daryl following Rick in his bike. The minute they stepped inside, Rick was all over him, kissing him insistently and tugging at his clothes. They barely made it to the bedroom where Rick rode him with a sort of desperate need, mixed with his usual eagerness. Daryl didn’t complain, of course, but something bothered him about the way Rick kept telling him he loved him and didn’t want to lose him, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Daryl was brushed off when he questioned Rick about it, and after that, the younger man started acting normal again, so he didn’t push the subject further. 

 

The next few weeks, things seemed to calm down for the most part. He was working with Rick by his side again and that soothed his worries quite a bit. And they hadn’t been bothered again. Maybe punching Simon had done the trick after all.

Daryl had felt their baby kick for the first time a couple of weeks ago. He’d never felt such joy before. He’d almost cried, almost. Not in front of Rick at least. 

Also, he was itching to know the sex of the baby. Rick already knew. They’d gone for an ultrasound a few weeks back and even though they’d discussed waiting, the younger man had demanded to know, saying he couldn’t not know. Daryl still wanted to wait, though it was getting increasingly difficult to stay strong in his posture and wouldn’t stop asking Rick about it. But since he’d made his lover promise not to tell him, he ended up with nothing. 

Rick grunted as he pitifully leaned down to pick up a pen he’d dropped so he hurried over to pick it up for him.

“Ya ‘kay?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, hitching on a breath as he straightened up. “Just my back. It’s a bit sore today.”

Daryl stepped behind Rick to wrap his arms around him, caressing the baby bump lovingly. “Tell ya what. When we get home, I’ll give ya massage.”

“Yes, please,” Rick sighed, leaning back against his chest. “Are you gonna go straight home or—”

“Shit. Gotta go to Carol’s first.” 

As soon as he said it, Rick pulled away. 

“Just fer a couple hours,” he assured, feeling compelled to do so for some reason. 

Rick threw him an unreadable glance. “It’s never just a couple hours.”

The younger man’s tone was as unreadable as his expression, but Daryl recognized a slight trace of bitterness hidden there somewhere. He’d noticed the same bearing about Rick on multiple occasions lately, but he was just now relating it to Carol. Besides, Rick had never been so vocal about it until now.

He’d been helping Carol with some house repairs for the past week, things she’d been putting off for a while since she didn't have the money before but were in dire need of repair. She was doing a lot better in her new job so he'd offered to help her after work. And he always ended up staying longer than a couple hours for Sophia kept tricking him into playing games with her and watching cartoons or some other show, or he’d engage in conversation with Carol and lose track of time. Rick was right about that, but it never occurred to him that it bothered him so much.

“Why didn’ ya tell me it bothered ya before?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Does.”

“Doesn’t,” Rick said firmly and with a certain edge to his tone so he stopped pushing it for the moment.

Rick didn’t say a word on the way home and once there, he went straight to the bedroom. Daryl sighed and closed the door, following after him. He was changing into sweat pants and a hoodie. The hem got caught in his swollen belly for a moment before he tugged it down to cover it. Daryl leaned against the door frame, admiring his gorgeous lover.

“Ya wanna talk now?” he said when blue eyes met his.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” Rick huffed in slight annoyance.

“Nah,” he shrugged. “Not t’day. So ya wanna talk now, or what?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Rick grunted, walking past him and out of the bedroom.

Daryl followed the younger man into the kitchen and watched in silence as Rick made himself a cup of tea.

“c’mon, Rick,” he grunted after a few minutes of strained silence, “ya’ve been holding it in fer a while, I can tell. Now’s yer chance t’say it.”

“I haven’t been holding anything back,” Rick scoffed.

“Ya have,” he insisted.

“Then please, tell me what it is,” Rick said with sarcasm, “since you seem to know more ‘bout me than I do.”

“Seems like I do,” Daryl countered. Rick glare at him but he continued anyway. “It bother’s ya I’m helpin’ Carol.”

“Yeah, make it sound like that,” Rick said tiredly and took his cup to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. He followed the younger man with his eyes.

“Then say it yerself,” he huffed.

Rick seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say and after a long pause, he let it out. “What’s really going on between you and Carol?”

He frowned. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear coming from Rick’s mouth. 

“The hell ya mean by that?” he bristled.

“You spend an awful lot of time with her and Sophia.”

“Tha hell ya on ‘bout, Rick?” he huffed, angered by the groundless accusation.

Rick shook his head and sighed. “Just answer the question.”

Daryl just glared at him. “We’re friends. S’ all it is.” 

Rick then paused, looking down and shaking his head slightly. “I know there’s something going on.”

Daryl grunted, glowering. “There ain’t. The hell’s gotten inta ya?”

“She has feelings for you.”

“She don’t,” he scoffed at how ridiculous that sounded. “I’d know.”

Rick scoffed. “You’d’ve never found about me if I hadn’t told you.”

“Yer wrong. She’d said something,” Daryl huffed, unwilling to believe what Rick was telling him. Carol was his friend. That couldn’t possibly be true. 

“Maybe she doesn’t wanna get between us,” Rick shrugged, but there was uncertainty in his clear eyes.

“Then whatcha worrying ‘bout?” 

A long pause followed his question. 

Rick sagged visibly, as if the upcoming answer weighed him down. His eyes dropped to the coffee table between them; his tea getting cold.

“About what you might do.”

The answer came out as a choked, strained sound. It rattled them both. That Rick thought him capable of cheating hit him unprepared. And it hurt, worse than any physical blow he’d received in his long life.

“Yer sayin I’d do somethin’ like that t’ya?” he gruffed, after swallowing the constricting knot in his throat.

Rick lifted his eyebrows and shook his head weakly. “I’m sayin’ you could. That’s enough for me.”

“Is that how ya think I am?” he hissed, rounding the table and leaning closer to the younger man.

Rick glanced at him warily; mouth slightly parted as if he wanted to say something more, but couldn’t get it out.

Daryl leaned even closer to Rick’s face, hissing with vehemence. “I ain’t that kind o’ person.”

“Lori wasn’t either,” Rick replied, glancing down again, unmoving, as if afraid to upset him further. “Didn’t stop her. I’m not gonna risk that happening to me again.”

He frowned at the lame excuse. 

“That’s bullshit. Yer just makin’ up excuses. Why don’ ya just man up n’ tell me ya don’ wanna be with me!?” Daryl barked loudly in Rick’s face, making him flinch, but he kept quiet and didn’t even look at him. 

Fuming, Daryl stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut with excessive force; the loud noise making a few dogs across the street bark in response.

Yelling at them to shut up, Daryl hopped on his bike and drove away.


	15. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! Yay!! Finally. Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Sorry for the mistakes. Remember it's unbetad.
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: Things get dark toward the end. Consider yourself warned. I'm sorry :(

Deafening silence followed Daryl’s loud exit. 

Sighing, Rick let himself fall on the couch, massaging his temples with both thumbs to ease some of the tension. Hearing them out loud made his accusations lose whatever sense they had in his head.

Everything he’d been hoarding for some time; the fear, the uncertainty, the pregnancy-related anxiety, topped with his paranoia in regards to Daryl and Carol’s relationship, it all had to explode sometime. But not in the way it did. Daryl was not to blame for any of that. He hadn’t even told the archer about the latest incident so he could hardly blame him for not sharing his distress or choosing to go to Carol’s after work instead of staying with him. As far as Daryl was concerned, whoever had been bothering him had stopped after he punched that man. And the hunter did stress enough that if anything were to happen while he was at Carol’s, Rick had to call him immediately and he’d come in a flash. Plus, nothing came of it, just a scare on the road. Rick even had his doubts it had any relation to the previous incidents. 

After two hours of waiting, Rick allowed himself a moment of weakness and grabbed his phone to call Daryl. It rang for a few seconds before it stopped. When he dialed again later, the phone was off. 

Sighing, he started to accept that Daryl wouldn’t be back home that night. If he’d gone to Carol’s, and he probably did, he should’ve been back by then.  
Maybe he’d be spending the night there. 

The mere thought of it tightened the knot in his stomach, stirring up every worry he’d had for the past days. 

What if he was right after all?

There was no way to know for sure. Rick didn’t know how it worked. He’d never cheated on anyone, but maybe it was something that just happened. Lori and Shane showed no sign of interest to one another before deciding to climb into bed together. Had they been in Shane’s bed or _theirs?_ Rick didn’t know and didn’t want to know. He’d spared himself the details when he took off that very same night she confessed, unable—no— _unwilling_ to face the harsh reality, according to Lori. She always gave him grief about that particular flaw. 

And she was right. The pain, the loss, the disappointment—the betrayal, Rick couldn’t risk going through that again. If he was in fact right about Daryl and Carol, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

Being cheated on again by someone he loved as much as he loved Daryl would utterly shatter him.

He gave up waiting after another hour went by. Daryl clearly didn’t want to be around him at the moment, and quite frankly, Rick wasn’t sure he wanted him there either. 

 

***

 

 

“Something wrong, pookie?” Carol asked, handing him a glass of juice as he stepped back from the wall to check if the paint was even. 

“Nah,” he shrugged, accepting the glass and drowning it in three big gulps. Handing the glass back to Carol with a short thanks, he bent over to soak the roller with paint again to continue with the other wall.

“You’ve been grumpier and quieter than usual,” Carol observed, giving him a pointed look when he glanced at her. “C’mon, don’t play hard on me. You know you’ll end up telling me anyway.”

He scoffed and approached the wall to press the roller against it and began rolling it up and down in even lines.

“Is it about Rick?”

Daryl grunted. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Is he okay?” 

“Yeah. He’s perfect,” he grunted, giving Carol a short glance over his shoulder, “just nuts.”

Carol pursed her lips and frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“He—” Daryl huffed, pausing for a moment. “He don’ know what he’s sayin’.”

“About?” Carol pushed.

“He’s sayin’—” Daryl huffed and paused again, keeping the hand holding the roller raised as he turned to her. “He said there’s somethin’ goin’ on between ya n’ me.”

Carol’s frown deepened and she shook her head slightly. “Something like what?”

“Somethin’” he muttered.

Realization dawned on Carol and she tensed up, visibly uncomfortable all of a sudden, and threw him a sharp look. Her usually mellow voice hardened when she spoke again. “You told him he’s wrong, right?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Didn’ believe me. He said—”

“What?”

“—Said ya got feelin’s fer me,” he mumbled while nipping on his upper lip, meeting her gaze in short bouts. 

Carol became quiet and still.

“I know he’s wrong—’s just what he said,” Daryl said, hoping to brush the tense subject aside by resuming his work on the wall and regretting ever bringing it up.

“Yes, he is,” she said in a determinant tone then paused, “—in part.”

Daryl stopped and turned to face her again. “Whatcha mean?”

Carol started pacing the room with slow steps, avoiding looking at him altogether. When she spoke again, her voice was back to mellow.

“I _was_ starting to have feelings for you— _before_ you told me about Rick,” she added quickly and stopped to stare at him with intent. “But now you’re just my friend. There’re no more feelings than those of friendship.”

“Huh,” he huffed. So Rick was right after all—in part. 

He’d never imagined it’d be possible for Carol to feel something other than friendship for him. Then again, he thought the same about Rick before he confessed his feelings. 

“Why didn’ ya tell me?” Daryl asked softly.

She shook her head, smiling. “Never found the right moment, I guess.”

“So ya don’ feel ‘em anymore?”

Carol took a deep breath. “I care about you deeply. I love you, even, but just as a friend. I closed that door right on time,” she forced out a laugh. “Thank God.”

They both stood there in silence for a moment. Carol broke it. 

“You need to fix this. Soothe his worries. They can't be good for him or the baby.”

“Nah,” he huffed. “Rick’s a stubborn son of a bitch. He’s gotta realize it on his own.” 

 

The next day, and before their fight, he’d planned on stopping by the shop before heading out to visit Merle, but he was still pissed at Rick. Plus, he didn’t want Dale meddling in their businesses and he was sure if he showed up and the air was tense, Dale would notice immediately resulting in an endless interrogatory Daryl had no intention to take part on.

Thanking Carol for breakfast, he hopped on his bike and headed off.

When they brought Merle in, Daryl greeted him with a halfhearted nod. 

“Well, if it isn’t mah ungrateful lil brother,” Merle taunted as he sat on the chair across from him. “Think yer better ‘n me now that ya’ve got a boyfriend an’ a baby on the way? Gonna buy a big house with a pretty white fence next?”

“Shut it,” Daryl hissed. “I didn’ come sooner ‘cuz ya was a jerk to Rick.”

“Was not,” Merle said in his defense. 

It’d been a few days over a month since he’d come visit Merle last, and although he didn’t really want to talk to him, it’d been way too long.

“Ya was, ‘n ya know it,” Daryl scolded. “He don’ deserve it. An’ he’s havin’ my baby.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that—” Merle said, leaning his back against the chair, “—guess I wasn’t very supportive, was I?” the older Dixon declared, “yer mah baby brother. I care ‘bout ya.”

That was the closest he’d get to an apology from his brother. Merle could never quite manage the word _sorry_ out. But it was enough for now.

“n’ the baby?” he muttered. 

“M’ gonna be an uncle,” Merle said, grinning, “’course I care ‘bout it.”

“Ya do?” Daryl grunted, eyeing his brother with mistrust.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a Dixon… even if their other _dad_ is a—”

“What yer mouth,” he warned, cutting his brother off. 

Merle chuckled, showing up his palms. “Alright. Not gonna call ‘im a pig.”

“yer n’ asshole,” he said feebly. 

“Oh, uh. Do I sense problems in paradise?”

“I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout ‘em with ya,” Daryl huffed.

“im’ offended,” Merle said with mock hurt. “Ya don’ think I know how to listen?”

He shrugged.

“Fine, then,” Merle said and kept quiet for a moment. “What of that other thing…’bout yer precious Rick being harassed? Ya solved that?”

Daryl shifted in his seat and leaned closer to his brother. “What I told ya earlier, ‘bout ‘em probably bein’ the Saviors?”

“Yeah…” his brother nodded.

“It’s them.” 

“They done somethin’ t’ ya?” Merle’s tone was threatening as he leaned further forward, giving him this intense look. “I told ‘em t’ stay away from ya.”

“And they have,” he grunted, “but not from Rick. He’s the one that matters. But it’s been’ a while since they’d done somethin’. Maybe now Simon knows Rick’s with me—” 

“Simon?”

He nodded. “Talked t’ im the other day—punched him even. Didn’ deny it. Said he’d back down, but was only speakin’ fer ‘imself.”

“Ya shouldn’t h’ve done that,” Merle huffed, shaking his head in disapproval. “He ain’t half as insane as he seems but he’s twice as dangerous. And he’s probably the reason why they ain’t raining down on ya while I’m still here. Keeps ‘em under control. He knows I know stuff ‘bout ‘em all.”

“Then I can talk t’im again,” Daryl suggested. “Tell ‘im ya’ll speak if they don’ leave Rick alone.”

Merle chuckled. “He’s just the chief’s right hand man. He don’ make the calls. Plus, are ya nuts? If ya threaten ‘em, we’re as good as dead. Rick too, or worse. We gotta keep it low. They don’ react kindly to threats.”

“Ya know who’s in charge then?” he looked at Merle with hope, keeping to himself the fact he’d already threatened Simon.

“Nah. Just a few know him. He’s smart, that one, and awfully careful— with great power.”

“Don’ care who he is. I ain’t gonna let him—“

“Ya don’ get it, do ya?” Merle cut him off, tone ridden with warning. “He ain’t gonna stop, till he gets what he wants.”

Daryl’s gut filled with dread.

“Can I be honest with ya, baby brother?”

“Yeah,” he huffed.

“I’d keep my eye on that boyfriend of yers,” Merle said, pointing his index at him to emphasize. “The chief likes to tease his victims before makin’ his move; sounds to me like he’s done with the teasing.”

Merle’s words troubled him so Daryl tried calling Rick immediately as he stepped out of the prison, but his phone was off. He had a moment of panic before he remembered something about Carl wanting to go to the movies with Rick that day so that’s probably were they were and why his phone was off.

He went home to wait for him there. Nothing was out of place, the door wasn’t forced so he just sat and waited.

 

 

***

 

Carl picked a movie about mutants. It was good. Although he preferred the classics, he had to admit he really enjoyed it. They were eating now.

“Dad,” Carl said after swallowing a mouthful of hamburger with a few sips of coke. 

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna name her?” Carl asked, catching him off guard. With everything that’d happened, he’d hardly had time to think about anything that didn’t involve getting cheated on or pushed off track on the road, let alone what to name of his daughter. _Their_ daughter.

“You haven’t even thought about it, have you?” Carl smirked.

He sighed, setting his half eaten burger down. “It’s still early.”

“Do you think Daryl has?”

“I doubt it. He doesn’t even want to know the sex yet,” he said and stuffed a couple of fries into his mouth.

“He can still think of names,” Carl said, matter-of-factly. “I’ve thought of names.”

Rick smirked. “Well—what do you suggest?”

“I was thinking—maybe Judith?”

“Judith,” he said, tasting the name, and smiled. “I like it.”

“So is it an option?” the teen said hopefully.

“I think it’s definitively an option,” Rick smiled brightly. 

“You think Daryl will like it?”

He hesitated and couldn’t mask the falter in his smile from his son.

“Dad?” Carl said, searching for his evasive eyes. “Something wrong?”

“Carl?” someone said from above them. Rick instantaneously put on an impassive mask to address the stranger.

“Coach,” Carl said smiling and stood up to shake hands with the tall, smiling man then turned to Rick to introduce him. “Uh, this is my dad.”

“So this is the famous Rick Grimes,” the man said, holding out his hand for Rick to take. 

Rick stared at it for a second, then up at the man curiously, taking the offered hand in a lose grip. The man tightened his grip and shook it vigorously. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said hesitantly. “Uh, school coach?”

“Yes, how rude, didn’t introduce myself,” the man said, chuckling. “I’m a teacher and coach at your son's school. Heard about your condition from my wife,” the man said and looked around as if searching for her then turned back to him, smiling brightly and looking down at his swollen belly. “I gotta say…you’re pretty remarkable.”

Rick smiled bashfully. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but thank you.”

“It is. Your partner must be very proud,” Carl’s coach said, offering a toothy grin then after a pause he sighed. “Well, I gotta go. The movie’s about to start and I have to find my wife,” the man said and held out his hand to shake Rick’s goodbye. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Grimes. Hope you have a healthy pregnancy and baby.”

Rick took it, smiling at the gracious man. “Thank you. Nice meeting you too.”

“Bye, Carl. See you at school.”

“Bye, coach.”

“He’s nice,” he said. Carl nodded. They finished up their burgers in silence.

After that, he drove Carl home. Lori opened the door, hugging Carl and kissing his head briefly before the teen was able to slip past her and into the house.

Lori clasped her hands together, almost in a pleading gesture, and smiled. “Would you like to come in?”

Rick considered it for a moment. He hadn’t been in there for so long.

“I made coffee,” she smiled. 

He smiled back and tilted his head. “Sure, why not?”

As he stepped inside, he was immediately flooded by memories. The smell of those scented candles Lori liked to put up everywhere was the same and everything was in the same place as when he left. Each family picture was right where they belonged. 

He smiled and looked down, trying to hide the slight dampness in his eyes. 

“Uh—take a seat. I’ll be right back,” Lori offered softly, as if afraid to scare him away. Rick nodded, but stepped toward the chimney instead, looking at the picture on top of it. It was the one with the failed road trip to the Grand Canyon. Carl looked sick in his arms, and both Lori and he looked exhausted, but it was by far his favorite picture of the three. It’d always been their favorite.

“Rick?” 

He turned around to face Lori. “I was just—”

“You can look at the pictures, Rick. It’s still your house,” she said with intent and held out a mug of coffee for him to take.

“Thank you,” he said; taking the offered mug and cupping it in his hands, he sat down across from Lori. 

Rick sipped on the hot drink and hummed. It was just as he liked it. 

“I don’t think I ever got to tell you how much I regret what happened,” Lori said suddenly, after clearing her throat. “What I did to you.”

Rick sighed, holding up his hand. “We don’t have to talk about that.” 

“Please, I need to,” Lori pleaded, and setting her mug down on the coffee table she took a deep breath while rubbing her thighs with nervous, bony hands.

Setting his coffee mug down as well, Rick closed his eyes and nodded, intent on listening to what he should’ve listened to over two years ago.

“There’s no excuse,” Lori began in a trembling voice, meeting his gaze with bright eyes. “There never will be, I know that. All I can say is that I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I loved you Rick. I still do. And what I did was the worst thing I could’ve done to you. It’s a mistake I’ll have to carry with me the rest of my life— knowing what I lost. But if I had the chance to live it all over again without being able to change a thing, I’d take it, because it was _worth_ it. All those memories— good and bad— I’d never change them for anything.” Lori stopped for a moment to take another deep breath and let out a shaky breath. She continued with a strained voice. “You’re the love of my life. And I cherish every minute I spent with you; every argument, every laugh. And I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was so difficult; so intolerant. You were the best husband a woman could ask for. You deserved better than that.”

“Lori—“ he choked out, struggling to keep his voice under control. 

“I don’t ask for forgiveness,” she said before he could continue. “I just needed to offer my apologies. What you do with them is your choice.”

Heavy silence followed after Lori’s speech while Rick struggled to figure out what to say. But really, there was only one thing he could say.

“I take them,” he said, staring at his clasped hands then back up at Lori through watery eyes. “I forgive you, Lori—I did a while ago.”

Lori stared at him wide eyed, then her mouth cracked up in a watery smile. “Thank you,” she nodded, flicking her gaze down. “Thank you, Rick.”

Lori’s words ran loud in his mind as he walked back to his car. She was right. Even after everything, he’d never trade a single memory they had together. They were part of his life, even the bad ones, and he would always keep them in his heart. 

Maybe trusting Daryl was a risk, so be it. He’d experienced being without him for three months during their break up, and he came to the conclusion that nothing could be worse than not being with him. Besides, Daryl cheating on him? It sounded less and less likely the more he thought about it. The archer wasn’t like that. 

When they first started going out, he’d been a bit shocked and out of his element when he’d learned just how devoted the hunter could be. How protective, caring and giving. He’d never been so coddled in his life. So much he often wondered if he was abusing Daryl’s generosity for not giving back half as much as he was getting. Daryl shut his mouth when he brought it up. 

Rick could hardly believe the man at times. 

And yeah, Daryl could be cranky and moody; he could mess up the floor and leave dirty plates on every surface available; he could spend a week without showering and eat a raw squirrel right in front of him while shrugging off his disgust. He could be brooding and unpredictable, and spend days without saying a word; he could know his favorite song and suffer through it even if he hated it; he could scoff at romance, but he’d pick up a flower for him if it’d make him laugh. Daryl could be thoughtful and attentive, so much he’d know exactly what Rick needed without him having to ask for it; he could be perceptive and know him better than he knew himself, he’d know exactly what he’s thinking and the exact words to say. He could punch a guy in the face for him, or kill him even—Daryl would give his life for him.

How could he ever doubt Daryl’s faithfulness after everything? 

Starting the engine, Rick drove home; praying Daryl would be there and ready to talk. He had to fix this somehow. They could go through this.

He was passing through the most deserted part down Bufford Road when whoever drove the car behind him flashed their headlights and picked up their speed to catch up with him.

Rick gripped the steering wheel with force and peeked through the rear view mirror before hitting the gas break, attempting to get away, but another car coming further behind raced past and cut in front of him, forcing Rick to hit the brake as it stopped abruptly. The car behind him stopped just in time, managing to only lightly bump against him, but efficiently trapping him between the two. 

Dread filled him when two men stepped out from each car and made their way to him.

Swallowing thickly, Rick leaned to his right to retrieve his gun from the glove box with a shaky hand while keeping a close eye on the approaching men. They wore black masks, making it impossible for him to recognize them and they had guns too, he noticed in his rising panic. If he shot one man down he’d be shot dead by one of the others soon after.

“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his gun and grabbing his phone instead, passing by Daryl’s contact to dial Shane’s while keeping it covered for the men not to see it. He couldn’t waste a second and there was a chance Daryl’s phone was still off or that he wouldn’t even answer him in the first place.

“Open the door,” one of the men said as he stood by his door, holding out their gun against the window. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

 _Hello?_ , Shane answered and Rick leaned down slightly to whisper in a shaky voice, careful not to lift his phone too much and risk getting caught. “I’m on Bufford road near the intersection. Four men got out of their cars. They have guns.” And without further explanations, he threw the phone down his seat.

“Yer choice,” gruffed the man standing beside his window and with the heel his gun, shattered the glass and opened the door. 

“Let go of me!” he shouted hoarsely as he was hauled out of the car after his seat belt was cut through with a knife. 

He struggled, he really did try to get away, but the darkness, the fear, the crippling fear for his growing daughter clouded his senses and Rick was soon overpowered by the men’s strength and easily dragged into one of the other cars. In a moment of desperation as the doors closed and he was held down on the back seat by too many hands, he opened his mouth and bit down as hard as he could on the hand covering his mouth until he tasted blood and the owner hollered in pain.

Daryl was the last thing on his mind as he was knocked unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judith isn't _the_ Judith, of course, but I figured Carl would still come up with the same name.


	16. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's violence in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****READ THIS*****
> 
> For some stupid reason, a part at the end of the previous chapter got cut (I messed up the HTML) and it was kind of important so I put it here at the start of this chapter in italics so you don't have to go back to read it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And sorry for the mistakes!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *

_Dread filled him when two men stepped out from each car and made their way to him._

_Swallowing thickly, Rick leaned to his right to retrieve his gun from the glove box with a shaky hand while keeping a close eye on the approaching men. They wore black masks, making it impossible for him to recognize them and they had guns too, he noticed in his rising panic. If he shot one man down he’d be shot dead by one of the others soon after._

_“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his gun and grabbing his phone instead, passing by Daryl’s contact to dial Shane’s while keeping it covered for the men not to see it. He couldn’t waste a second and there was a chance Daryl’s phone was still off or that he wouldn’t even answer him in the first place._

_“Open the door,” one of the men said as he stood by his door, holding out their gun against the window. “I’m not gonna ask again.”_

_Hello? Shane answered and Rick leaned down slightly to whisper in a shaky voice, careful not to lift his phone too much and risk getting caught. “I’m on Bufford road near the intersection. Four men got out of their cars. They have guns.” And without further explanations, he threw the phone down his seat._

_“Yer choice,” gruffed the man standing beside his window and with the heel his gun, shattered the glass and opened the door._

_“Let go of me!” he shouted hoarsely as he was hauled out of the car after his seat belt was cut through with a knife._

_He struggled, he really did try to get away, but the darkness, the fear, the crippling fear for his growing daughter clouded his senses and Rick was soon overpowered by the men’s strength and easily dragged into one of the other cars. In a moment of desperation as the doors closed and he was held down on the back seat by too many hands, he opened his mouth and bit down as hard as he could on the hand covering his mouth until he tasted blood and the owner hollered in pain._

_Daryl was the last thing on his mind as he was knocked unconscious._

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Daryl didn’t last a full minute sitting before he was pacing around the living room with his shoulders drawn back while gnawing on his thumb. Every time a car drove near, he’d peer through the window by the door only to get disappointed and even more worried. When he called Rick again, it did ring this time, but there was no answer. 

Rick called him the night before when he was at Carol’s and because he’s a dumbass, he hung up and turn it off. Maybe he was upset about that and didn’t want to talk to him just yet. Yes, that had to be it. He was at Lori’s and he was okay. He _had_ to be okay.

It was almost ten and Rick showed no sign of coming back. When he called him again, the call went straight to voice mail. 

Something wasn’t right.

With Merle’s words ringing loudly in his head, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and headed out. Roaring his bike’s engine into life, he made his way to Lori’s using the same route Rick always took so as not to miss him in case he were on his way back.

Unfortunately, he didn’t run into Rick, but he did run into two police patrols parked on the side of the road; a third one drove past him on his way there. 

Daryl’s stomach twisted with nerves as he slowed down to a stop to see what was happening. Four cops holding up their flashlights headed deeper into the woodened area, searching for something—or someone. 

For some reason, Daryl panicked and drove past them at full speed, desperate to get to Lori’s and prove his worries wrong. 

Driving around the curve, Lori’s house came into full view and Daryl’s heart almost stopped. Another patrol was parked outside— Shane’s patrol.

Lori and Shane were talking outside and turned to him as he parked his bike beside them and got off; voice shaky as he spoke. 

“Rick?”

“Daryl, I was just ‘bout to—”

“Where’s Rick?” he interrupted, not caring about whatever it was Shane was trying to tell him. All he cared about was learning of Rick’s location and if he was alive and well. 

Shane shook his head. “I think he was taken.”

“He was just here,” Lori said, tone bordering on desperate as she covered her mouth with one bony hand. “How could this happen?”

“D’hell ya mean taken?” he gruffed impatiently, stepping into Shane’s personal space.

“I got a call from him. He said something about four men. Told me his location. After that I heard him yell and shattered glass. I think they smashed his window. There’s busted glass on the road near a sprayed on X on the pavement. We believe that’s where they took him from.” 

Daryl stomach dropped and he felt the cold fist of dread tightening around his heart at hearing that information. 

They had him. 

“Did something happen to my dad?”

They all turned to Carl as he took hesitant steps toward them; concern evident in his young features. Lori held her shaky hands up against her son’s chest as she tried in vain to make him walk back into the house. 

“Is he dead?”

Heavy silence followed after that. The fact that he didn’t know the answer to that question was debilitating.

“No,” he huffed and made his way toward his bike, followed closely by Shane who turned to mother and child to soothe their worries like the good cop he was. 

“Carl. Listen to your mother and go back inside. We’ll take care of this. Don’t worry.”

“Daryl!” Carl called. The hunter turned to face the teen with hesitance. He was sure Carl would start blaming him for letting this happen. _He_ was blaming himself. But the teen surprised him once again with the trust he poured in his tone as he spoke again. Trust in him. “Bring my dad back.”

Offering Carl a nod, which was all he had to offer for now, he hopped on his bike with determination. He’d bring Rick back.

Daryl rode to the place where —according to Shane— they’d taken Rick from, followed closely behind by the cop. 

More patrols had gathered there. And more than likely, more cops had gone into the woods in search of whatever trails they could find. Daryl knew they wouldn’t find any. 

Shane came down of his patrol to talk to one of his partners while Daryl inspected the pavement for any trail that could be useful. Nothing. But one thing was obvious. They weren’t in those woods the cops were so resolutely searching. Not deep enough. Plus, I’d be pretty stupid of them to do whatever it is they were planning on doing so close to the place of the abduction. 

“No news yet,” Shane said, walking toward him with a downcast stride. 

“They ain’t gonna find a damn thing here,” he grunted and without another word, drove away from the place.

“Daryl!”

He knew Shane would follow him. He didn’t care. All he cared about was finding Rick before it was too late. He had an idea of where they could’ve taken him, but it was a 50/50 bet. And he could be too late anyway. 

“Hold on, Rick.”

The place where he was headed, he’d been there before in his younger years. It was a place of gathering for the saviors. An abandoned, half-burnt school property with a huge lot, surrounded by forest in almost every direction offered much necessary seclusion for their activities; drinking parties mostly, aimed to lure in gullible young people, where the heads would study each of them closely, deciding on who were deserving of membership and picking them apart to later fill their heads with nonsensical bullshit against everything and everyone who didn’t fit their normalcy, white supremacist standards. Organizing was done inside the building, where they’d decide on who their next victim was gonna be and plan how to get them. 

He attended to quite a few of their drinking nights with Merle, never the rest of their activities. Those were for members only. Merle did though. He used to be one of the heads.

They were a pretty organized group, and closed too. Not everyone got in. Daryl had always figured Merle would get him in eventually. Not that he wanted to, for he most certainly didn’t fit with their standards, but being on the receiving end of Merle’s respect was something he held high in his priorities list back in the day. 

_Dumbass_.

When word got around he was a _fag_ , he was banned from every activity from then on. Merle wasn’t though, but he did get out when things turned for the worst since the saviors were set on hunting his ass down for being the way he was, Merle’s brother or not. But the older Dixon held enough authority that he managed to get them off his back. That and he beat enough of their asses for them to leave his lil’ brother be.

It’d been a long time since he’d been there. But he remembered the way alright. 

It looked different, smaller. But it was definitely the place. He drove his bike around the building toward the back. 

There was a car parked there. Rick’s car.

Parking his bike, he approached the vehicle with long strides, holding up his flashlight to inspect its inside. Driver’s window smashed and door open. The seatbelt had been cut through with a knife. Rick’s disassembled phone had been carelessly thrown on the passenger seat. The battery was nowhere near, quite possibly thrown out the window by whoever drove the car there. He tried not to touch anything for when the police searched for prints. 

Aiming his flashlight on the floor beside the door, he followed the footsteps carefully. They led to the center of the clearing that used to be the backyard of the school. They’d beat up Rick there. There were clear signs of it, some drops of blood here and there, even a small puddle, small being the key word. Daryl closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breathe and kept looking for more trails, doing an inhuman effort to keep focused. 

There wasn’t a larger puddle of blood. No bullet shells. Which didn’t mean Rick was alive, but it was something. 

Trying to block the images of multiple possible ways they could’ve killed Rick without spilling a drop of blood, he followed the trails that led away from there. 

The headlights from Shane’s patrol lighted the whole place as he arrived to the clearing. As he kept searching for a more telling trail, he heard Shane talking through the walkie, informing his partners of his location as he inspected Rick’s car with his flashlight. Seven different set of footsteps, seven different men and three vehicles aside from Rick’s, all three headed out into the main road where their tracks went to die on the pavement.

How was he going to find him? 

“Rick!” he yelled at the darkness surrounding him, voice breaking and knees shaking. “Riiiick!!”

Sinking heavily down on his knees as his voice died down, he allowed panic and fear to win over. If he lost Rick…his family, he better die right there. 

Quite funnily, Merle came into his mind. He would probably have a laugh at his expense and call him pathetic. He sure was.

“No,” he huffed angrily. Drying the desperation tears with the back of his hand he stood up again and grabbed his crossbow. He couldn’t give up. 

Simon. That asshole had to know where they’d taken him. 

Just as he was about to hop on his bike again, his phone rang. Fishing it out of his pants’ pocket with hasty, shaky hands he pressed the green button and brought the thing up against his ear without even looking at the caller.

“Rick?” he grumbled, wary of the answer. It took a few seconds to come, but when it did, his heart leaped.

“Daryl?” 

 

 

***

 

 

After the blow to the side of his head, he lost consciousness for a few minutes, or so he figured since they were still driving when he came to. They’d put a bag over his head so he had no idea where they were taking him. 

Renewing his struggles when he realized they’d tied his hands behind his back was obviously a bad idea, but he couldn’t help himself. The click of a gun’s safety being unlocked made him freeze and cold fear poured down his back when what he was sure was the gun muzzle was pressed against his belly. A harsh voice hissed against his ear.

“Move an inch. I dare you.”

Staying completely still, he strained out. “What’re you gonna do to me?”

“None of yer goddamned business,” the man to his left hissed. Rick had to bite his tongue not to answer in spite at such an absurd answer.

 _None of his business_.

The car came to a full stop a few minutes later. He was dragged out of the car and thrown on the ground with excessive force, luckily landing on his side. He wasn’t even struggling anymore. The fear intensified with the anticipation of what was coming. These men would show him no mercy, pregnant or not.

They grabbed him again and dragged him across the ground toward a specific point where they pulled him up and forced him on his knees. The hood was snatched from his head and car headlights blinded him momentarily. 

They were in the woods, in the middle of a clearing behind an abandoned building. Looking up, he was able to distinguish six figures standing in front of him. Gradually, their faces became clearer. They weren’t wearing their hoods. Cold dread settled in his heart as he realized what it meant. They weren’t planning on letting him walk out of there alive.

A kick on his back shoved him forward and he fell face first against the dirt. He grunted in pain as the foot added pressure on his shoulder, holding him in place. A knife cut through his bonds and his hands were freed, just as the pressure on his shoulder lifted. Grabbing him by the collar of his coat, the man behind him pulled him up again then let him go, but not without another hard shove. The man behind him walked around him to look down on him with sick mirth. 

“See this? See what you did, you faggot freak?” the man spat, holding up his precariously bind hand in front of his eyes. Rick vaguely recalled biting down hard on something until he tasted blood, right before he was knocked unconscious. 

A blow connected with his cheek and sent him sprawling into the floor again. All he thought of doing, as blows kept landing on him, was curling in on himself to protect his belly with all his might.

Punches and kicks were delivered to his face, legs, back and arms, all that chorused by endless hateful remarks about his condition. Rick didn’t care. All he cared about was them not hurting his baby daughter. 

Too long passed until they stopped. He was hurting all over, but luckily, none of the blows landed anywhere near his belly.

“Alright, that’s enough, boys,” a voice he hadn’t heard before spoke with authority. Rick tilted his head to the side to see if he could see the face of the new comer. His left eye had been punched and it was hard to see, but he could still discern the frame of a tall, dark haired man with a dark mustache. “I’ll take it from here. All of you, you can just head home.”

Rick shook his head a bit to stop the ringing in his ears and better hear the conversation, but his whole face protested and he grunted weakly. At least the pain was concentrated in his face rather than anywhere else, and his ankle. One of the men had stomped down on it hard. His shoulder hurt too and that kick in his back would leave a considerable sized bruise, but as long as his daughter wasn’t hurt, he could take it.

“You did a good job tonight. The man will be proud of y’all. I’m supposed to take him away to finish him. Man’s orders.”

 _Finnish him?_ Rick's stomach tightened at that and he placed a protective hand over the baby bump.

“That’s not what Dwight said. We’re supposed to do it here. Right now.”

“Well, change of fuckin’ plans,” the new arriver said with ease.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” one of the others said, shaking his head.

“What d’y mean?” the tall man said in a threatening tone.

“Feels wrong, is all.”

“Then you’re more than welcome to fill in a complaint. I’ll take it to the man himself. Or better yet… maybe you should take it.”

“We had clear instructions—”

“Like I said, change of plans. Shit got complicated. There’re already cops lookin’ for this asshole.”

“Then I’ll kill him right now,” the man whose hand he’d bitten said and giving long, determined strides toward him, pointed the gun at his head. 

“No!” Rick hoarsed out and tried getting away but the man behind him grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. He closed his eyes and waited for the gunfire. 

It never came for the tall man kicked the gun from the other’s grasp. The man yelped in pain and held his already injured hand, glaring at the other with vehemence. The taller man returned the glare with more intensity. 

“Are you a fucking idiot!? What part of ‘the cops are searching for him’ you didn’t understand? They hear a gunshot and we’re busted.”

The other man huffed. “The fuck do I care. I want to see him die.”

“Well, you’re not gonna. Now fuck off all of you. And you,” the tall man pointed a finger at the man who’d tried to kill him, “better not give me more reasons to tell you off to the boss,” he said in a mocking tone. “I’d hate to be a snitch. Don’t make me be one.” 

“Hey, let’s go,” one of the others said and tried taking the troublesome man with him, but the man just stepped closer to the taller one and pointed an accusatory finger at Rick.

“This fucker saw my face. If you don’t kill him—”

“You doubt me now?” the tall man replied and approached the other threateningly. “Think that’s wise?”

They glared at each other for a moment until the one who’d tried to shoot him backed down.

“Whatever.”

Rick was let go and footsteps got away from the clearing. The tall man was standing in front of him, facing the retreating rest. Car doors opened and closed. Engines roared and vehicles got away.

As stealthily as his condition allowed it, Rick tried to crawl his way toward the forgotten gun, while holding his arm protectively around his belly. The pain was excruciating, but he had to get the gun. He’d die otherwise.

“Hey! The hell ya think yer goin’?” the sharp voice called, stopping him dead in his tracks. The man walked toward the gun and picked it up. Rick braced himself for more blows or a gunshot, whatever may come. He was grabbed by the jacket instead and hauled on his feet and yelped when he unconsciously put pressure on his hurt ankle. 

“Shut up,” the man hissed and started dragging him toward the car then walked around it, half-carrying Rick toward the truck of said car.

“No!” he groaned, struggling in the man’s embrace. “Let go of me!”

“m’ not gonna kill ya,” said the man and ironically, pulled out the gun and pointed it at his face. “Get in.”

The ride to their—unknown to him —destination seemed endless. Every inch of his face hurt with every bump on the road. Other parts too, but he was unable to tell exactly which. It all hurt.

When the car came to a stop, Rick gripped the wrench he’d found in his small confinement with force and readied himself for attack while obsessively wondering whether attacking the man was a good idea or not. He did say he’d finish him. But he also said he wouldn’t kill him. The only thing Rick knew was that he couldn’t trust him, so he gripped the wrench tighter as one of the car doors opened and closed and footsteps on gravel told him the man was approaching the truck.

As soon as it opened, Rick swung the wrench with force, hitting the man on the side of face. The man yelped in pain, staggering back a bit, but got back on his senses before Rick could throw himself out of the truck and grabbing him by his coat, he hauled him out and unto the ground while cursing loudly.

“Fucking, fucker! I should kill you just for that,” the man groaned and took the gun from the back of his pants, pointing it at Rick’s head as he rubbed his face.

“Don’t! Please don’t,” he begged, holding up his hand as if it’d stop the man from shooting him. Rick hated to beg. But it wasn’t just his life at stake here. He wouldn’t be doing it otherwise.

“You’re a fucking idiot, did you know that?” the man growled angrily but lowered the gun and reached down on his pocket for something. Rick flinched involuntarily when it was thrown at his lap. It was a phone. 

He frowned and looked up at the man with confusion. 

The man stared at him as if he were stupid. “Well, pick it up.” 

Rick did so with trembling hands and looked up at the man again, who let out an exasperated sigh. “Now would you fucking use the damn thing, for fucks sakes? Call your boo and stop wasting my fucking time. You have no idea what I did for you tonight.”

Rick was still very confused but he did as he was told. He didn’t know what would happen next, but whatever it was, at least he’d get to talk to Daryl.

Clumsily, he dialed the number and brought the phone up against his ear. 

“Tell him where you are,” the man instructed.

He scanned his surrounding quickly, recognizing the sign of the gas station and waited for Daryl to answer. 

When he heard the raspy voice on the other end, all the stress and fear he’d been holding broke through him. He started shaking and his throat constricted. It was with effort that he replied; the name of the man he loved coming out almost as a choke. 

“Daryl.”

 _“Rick! Where’re ya? Ya ‘kay?”_ Daryl’s worried voice thrummed against his ear, coursing through him and soothing him.

“Make it short,” the man hissed, snapping him from his stupor.

He told Daryl his location quickly, tripping over his words while warily eyeing the gun still in the man’s hands.

“Alright, that’s enough,” said the man and snatched the phone from his hands, cutting through Daryl’s third worried verse of _but, r’ ya really ‘kay?_ , then put the gun in the back of his jeans. Rick sighed in relief. “I’m gonna go now. You okay to stay here on yer own till yer man comes?”

Rick blinked a couple of times, staring up at the man in confusion then nodded jerkily. 

The man nodded and turned his back to him, walking with long strides toward his car.

“Hey,” he called, stopping the man just as he was about to get in. “Thank you.”

“Whatever you do now, is up to you,” the man said, pointing a finger at him. “But keep in mind that what they were about to do to you…they won’t be happy it didn’t come to fruition. Also, tell Daryl I’m gonna punch him back when I see him for all the trouble you’ve both caused me.”

The man took off, leaving Rick shivering on the floor. The adrenaline was wearing off and the aches were making themselves glaringly noticed. 

Placing a hand on his belly, Rick started checking for any tender spots. Nothing hurt and a smile formed when the baby kicked just where his hand was. She was okay.


	17. Measures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!! Yay! One more chapter to go. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! And thank you all for the lovely support!
> 
> *Look at the warnings*

Yelling at Shane to follow him toward the gas station, he got on his bike and rode off at full speed. 

Rick was alive. He wasn’t able to say much and his voice sounded eerily pained, but he was alive and waiting for him. 

Parking around the block behind the gas station, Daryl got off his bike and hid behind some bushes on the side of the road, just in case, and ran the rest of the distance there through the dark woodened area behind the station, holding up his crossbow and ready to kill if need arose.

The lot behind the building was dark and empty, save for some abandoned vehicles and truck tires scattered about the place. 

Squinting, he stepped closer to scan the area better and almost cried when he spotted Rick slumped against a pile of truck tires.

“Rick!”

Daryl ran the distance separating them and relief ran through his system when Rick, roughed up as he looked, smiled at him. Rick smiling was always a good sign.

“Shit, babe,” Daryl huffed as he let himself fall on his knees next to Rick and gently lifted the younger man’s face to inspect it. Bruises were already forming in his jaw and cheekbone, his nose and under his eyes. There were cuts and scratches almost everywhere, although none were deep and none appeared to be bleeding anymore. “Where else ya hurt?” he asked with impatience, gently resting his hands over their growing child. “The baby?”

Rick smiled and placed his hand on top of Daryl’s. “She’s fine. She kicked just bef—“ The younger man’s smile dropped instantly as that statement left his mouth and stared guiltily at him. 

Daryl’s heart skipped a beat. “She?”

“Oh, shit, Daryl. I’m sorry—”

“A girl? We got a lil’ girl?” he asked, tone bordering on frantic. 

After a hesitant pause, Rick grinned so widely his eyes wrinkled at the corners. “We do.”

They had a little girl. 

Daryl didn’t have a preference before, but now he knew they had a little girl on the way, he couldn’t help but burst with joy. 

“Rick,” he gasped; face scrunching up as he readied to cry and leaned closer to rest his forehead against Rick’s. “We got a lil’ girl,” he whispered.

Rick grinned wider. “Happy much?”

“Heck, yeah,” he sniffed; pulling away to keep inspecting Rick while surreptitiously wiping away the unshed tears gathered in his eyes. “Where else ya hurt?”

“Think my face’s the worst,” Rick rasped, “and my ankle. They stepped hard on it. I don’t think it’s broken though.”

“Those fuckers,” Daryl muttered, brushing away a sweaty curl plastered to Rick’s forehead to inspect the bruise hidden behind it. It didn’t look too bad and Rick was conscious; a good sign as far as he knew. “How d’ya get away? They just let ya off?”

Rick’s gaze locked with his. “No. A man helped me.”

“Who?”

“I think it was that man you went to see…the one you punched?”

“Simon?”

Rick nodded. “I think so. Said he’s gonna punch you when he sees you for all the trouble we caused him, so I figured.”

Simon had done that? Why? 

“And the others?” Daryl asked, stealing glances around to make sure they were still alone.

“They left. And Simon?” Rick looked at him for confirmation. He nodded. “—He told them he’d finish me and brought me here in the truck of his car. Gave me his phone and told me to call you.” Rick said, speaking sullenly, meeting his eyes with heavy intent. “They were gonna kill me.”

Daryl’s blood ran cold at the possibility of it. 

“I’mma kill ‘em,” he grumbled. “Ya saw ‘em faces?”

“Yes, but Daryl—”

Headlights hitting them in their faces announced Shane’s arrival. Rick gripped his arm with force and glared at the arriving vehicle with a mixture of panic and anger. 

“It’s Shane, love,” he soothed, rubbing the man’s arm up and down. “We gonna take ya t’ the hospital, kay’?” Rick sighed with relief and nodded. “We gotta make sure ya two are fine,” he said, placing his hand over the baby bump again.

After making sure the place was secure, Shane made his way to them and kneeled beside him, reaching out to touch Rick’s arm. “You okay, Ricky?” Shane said worriedly and tried to fuss over his former partner, but Daryl held a protective arm over his man.

“I’m fine,” Rick sighed, smiling.

“For now,” he grunted and gently grabbed Rick’s arm, looking at Shane. “Help me get ‘im up.”

He sat in the back seat with Rick as Shane drove them to the hospital. He’d already notified their finding to his partners. Daryl hoped one of them would notify Lori and Carl, but kept it to himself for he didn’t want to stress Rick about it. They would know soon enough.

Noticing how Rick’s hand traced soothing patterns over his belly, Daryl placed his own next to it and kissing the younger man’s temple, he whispered. “We gotta think of a name fer our lil’ one.”

Rick nodded then after a pause, he spoke hesitantly. “How do you feel ‘bout… Judith?”

“Judith?” he rasped, feeling the name around. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” the younger man smiled brightly.

“Yeah,” Daryl said and kissed the top of Rick’s head. “Been busy thinkin’ ‘bout names, huh?”

“Actually, no,” Rick said, placing his hand on top of Daryl’s. “Carl has. He’s takin’ this business of being an older brother very seriously.”

“I bet.”

At the hospital, Rick was taken in immediately for they needed to make sure the baby was alright. 

With Rick back in his arms, conscious and smiling, he’d relaxed a fair bit, but stress and fear returned as he thought of the possibility of internal damage—or on their lil’ girl, so when the doctor let him through, giving a reassuring smile, Daryl almost fainted with relief. He rushed past the doctor and entered the bedroom.

“Hey,” he whispered. 

“Hey yourself,” Rick smiled and Daryl’s heart broke in half at seeing the multiple stitches on his love’s face; the dark bruises in stark contrast against the white bed sheets and walls. 

“Ya okay?” he asked, walking up the distance between them to take Rick’s hand in his.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” the former deputy said, “but they want me to stay the night to make sure.”

“Then m’ stayin’” Daryl gruffed.

“You don’t have—“ Rick started to say, but one look from the archer stopped him midsentence. “Okay you have to.”

“Damn right,” he huffed. Rick smirked. “n’ our lil’ girl?”

“She’s fine.”

There was a knock on the door and they both turned their attention toward it as Shane stepped in.

“Ready?”

Rick nodded.

Daryl listened intently to the description of the attack; blood boiling with anger the whole time as Rick numbered every punch, every slap, every kick and where they were delivered and by who. What they said to him, about him and their baby…Daryl could barely take it anymore. 

As it turned out, he’d been wrong all along. It wasn’t about him, none of it. They were after Rick. He was their main target, for Rick defied everything that they deemed _normal_ or _natural_ by their sick standards. 

“Daryl?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to listen to this,” the former deputy rasped, noticing his discomfort.

He shook his head and gruffed. “Nah, I do.”

“So what happened after that,” Shane said, getting Rick back on track.

“Uh…a man showed up sometime between the beatings. He held authority over the rest, stopped the whole thing. But the rest argued with him. Someone mentioned a Dwight. They said: ‘that’s not what Dwight said’ when the man who helped me told them they could go and he’d _finish_ me. I think that Dwight man could be the leader... or not. I don’t know.”

Daryl bit his tongue not to growl in anger. 

_Dwight? That pathetic fucker had climbed his way up among the saviors all the way to the top?_ It seemed unlikely for the Dwight he knew didn’t strike him as a leader, but who was he to judge who those sick bastards would pick as their leader? 

After that, Shane asked Rick to give a detailed description of the men, everything he could remember, and for Daryl to pitch in when and if he identified any of them. And he did. Whenever Rick was finished describing one of them, he’d give their full names, where they lived, where they worked; any information he had...except for one of them.

“Alright, that’s it for now. It’s very helpful information,” Shane said, looking from Rick to Daryl then back to Rick. “We’re gonna catch them.”

Rick nodded, letting out a long sigh. “I know.”

“By the way, if what the man that helped you said is true, and if they’re dumb enough, they might try something…so I’m gonna stay here tonight.” 

“Shane, you don’t have to,” Rick tried to argue, but the other man lifted his palm, stopping him right there.

“Sheriff’s orders.”

“Thank you… for everythin’,” Rick said, smiling tiredly. Poor thing had to be exhausted. 

“S’ what I’m here for,” Shane said, returning the smile.

In his anger, Daryl barely registered their exchange, until Shane said he’d be staying. Rick would be safe with Shane there. He could make it quick and be back in an hour.

It took every ounce of concentration in him not to burst out of there. He surprised even himself that even clouded by blinding rage, he had enough presence of mind not to worry Rick, even if what he planned on doing was everything but meditated. 

“Rick?” he grunted and Rick turned his full attention to him. “ya’ll be alright if I head out fer a bit?”

“Yes, of course,” the younger man said then frowned. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

“Nah,” he shrugged off, “just gotta get my bike. Parked it somewhere near the gas station. Gonna make it back quick.”

Rick nodded. “Okay—but hey,” he said, stopping Daryl on his way to the door. “Be careful.”

“Course.”

He exited the room with sure strides, until Shane stopped him on his tracks and he turned on his heels to huff at the younger man. 

“Tha hell ya want?”

Shane looked down at his notepad and sighed then up again, giving him a knowing look. “Looks like the only one you don’t know anything about is this Dwight.”

“Did what I could,” he shrugged. “Can I go now?”

The cop chuckled. “I hope you know whatever it is you plan on doing is a terrible idea and I can’t let you go along with it.”

“Don’ know whatcha talkin’ ‘bout,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes to glare at Shane.

“Daryl!” 

Both men turned to Lori and Carl as they made their hurried way toward them. Unlike Lori the teen didn’t slow down as they approached them and all but crashed against him, circling his arms around his middle. 

“Thank you,” Carl muffled against his chest. 

“Hey, was nothin’” Daryl muttered awkwardly. 

When the teen pulled away, he looked deeply into his eyes, smiling. “I knew you’d find my dad.”

“Barely did anythin’,” he shrugged, unaccustomed to receiving such honest displays of trust from anyone other than Rick.

“Is he alright?” Lori asked in a shaky voice. “We weren’t told much.”

“He’s fine. He’ll be fine. He’s tough,” he grunted.

“Thank you,” She said, reaching out to squeeze his forearm. Daryl blushed and ducked his head bashfully.

“Can we see him?” Carl asked, addressing Shane this time.

Momentarily blinded by Lori’s presence, Shane led them both to Rick’s room without sparing him a glance, so Daryl used the opportunity to sneak away.

Passing by a group of cops by the entrance, his resolve grew. Rick was more than well taken care of. He just had to make it back quick. 

He didn’t notice one of them following him with his eyes as he sauntered toward the styled bushes near the entrance to the hospital to retrieve his hidden crossbow.

***

Just a couple minutes after Shane followed Daryl out of the room, he returned, peering through the door and smiling at him. “You got visit,” he said with and stepped aside to let Carl and Lori in, closing the door behind them to give them some privacy.

“Dad!” Carl yelled, beaming up and stepping closer with hesitant steps, as if afraid him getting close too abruptly would bring more harm to his dad’s beaten body. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he said, beckoning his son closer to take his hand, offering a reassuring smile then shifted his gaze to Lori where she stood by the door; the moment holding a strong sense of déjà vu. 

Carl had the same reaction when he cracked his eyes open for the first time in little under a month in that same hospital, over two years ago. But Lori looked far more shocked and guilty back then. Now, she smiled back and took one step closer to the bed. “I—” she began, unable to hide the pained grimace as she studied his battered face closer. After a pause, she looked down and took a deep breath. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I thought—”

“Hey, I’m fine,” he interrupted and looked back at his worried son, placing his hand on Carl’s forearm reassuringly. “I am.”

“I was scared,” Carl admitted, “but I knew Daryl would find you.”

Rick smiled, not really sure why it faltered or why his stomach constricted when he thought about the archer. 

“Dad?” his son asked, immediately sensing his change in demeanor. 

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you’re here. Both of you,” he said, looking at Lori who smiled and approached the bed slowly, reaching out to take his other hand and squeeze it gently.

“And my sister?” 

“She’s fine,” Rick affirmed and smiled when Carl placed his hand on the swell and bent forward to hug it. 

“I’m glad,” Lori nodded, pursing her lips before a smile tugged the corners of her mouth as worry eased from her face. 

Rick replied with a satisfied smile. Everything was good, he told himself. But the tension in his stomach wouldn’t give.

***

After a hitched ride, he made it back to the gas station with enough time to do what he needed to do and go back to Rick in under an hour.

The cold air hit his face as he rode with haste to his destination, but not even the icy night air could cool down the burning anger running through his veins. 

The trailer park was dark, lit only by inside lighting from each trailer, and quite loud too, either by some shitty reality TV show coming from the one in front, or drunken laughter coming from the one to his right, or even a brawl from the third one down the left. But Dwight’s trailer was quiet, and although there was light coming from within, it seemed empty. 

Lifting his weapon, he made his way to the door and insistently knocked on it, intent on ending things right then and there. 

No one answered which only made his anger grow. 

He tried the door lock and pulled. The door opened just like that. Narrowing his eyes, Daryl held his crossbow up as he stepped inside to check the small place. It was empty.

“Fucker,” he snarled and stepped outside. Not bothering to close the door behind him, he strutted back to his bike muttering under his breath. “Tha hell r’ ya’.”

Deciding on a new destination, he rode away. If anyone had a clue as to where Dwight may have run off to, that someone was Simon. 

When he made it there, the back lights were on so he made his way around the house toward the back, kitchen door. It was open. Simon was there, fervently cleaning the counters.

He snorted at the sight.

The man turned to the sound. At seeing him, he sighed in relief and turned back to his task. “Thought ya were one of ‘em.”

“Da hell ya doin’?” he asked as he stepped inside.

“What’s it look like? Makin damn sure this place looks nothin’ like a meth lab…or smells like one.”

Daryl nodded, just noticing the absence of lab equipment in the kitchen. 

“Think they gonna rat ya out?”

“No, I think they gon’ kill me,” Simon said, a bit too casually, “but ya know… just in case they don’t. Don’ wanna end up like yer brother.”

“Shouldn’t ya be hidin’, then?”

“Tha’ hell would I wanna do that for?” Simon frowned.

Daryl shrugged. “So they don’ kill ya?”

“I ain’ hidin’ from ‘em cowards,” Simon huffed and kept scrubbing.

“Well, anyway…I know who yer leader is. Went to get ‘im, but he wasn’t in his trailer. I need ya t’ tell me where he is.”

Simon lifted his head from his task and threw him a confused glance. “Who lives in a trailer?”

“Dwight. He yer leader, right?”

“Dwight?” Simon scoffed, looking down again. “That cheating coward ain’t the leader.”

“Then who is?” Daryl huffed, stepping closer to Simon. “Just gimme his name, man.”

Simon dropped what he was doing and turned to face him, but before he could say anything, his eyes shifted to something behind Daryl, and for a split second, there was acceptance in his face, right before the deafening bang that stopped his heart for a second or two. The man fell back against the counter and down to the floor as the bullet hit him.

Daryl spun back to see Dwight aiming a gun at his face. 

“I was wondering why you left the hospital in such a hurry,” he said, cocking his head to the side. Daryl glared at him. It was all he could do. That and curse at himself for not paying more attention. Dwight’s brother was probably one of the cops at the hospital. 

He knew the guy was an asshole like his brother, but he’d never imagined he aided the saviors in their activities.

“You think I’m the leader,” Dwight said, taking a couple steps closer. “That why ya were at my place? Ya wanted to kill me?”

“I _am_ gonna kill ya.” 

“Ya _should_ kill me,” Dwight threatened, “’cause when I’m done with you…I’m coming after yer pregnant bitch.”

Daryl’s stomach tightened as anger flowed freely through his system; head pounding and ears ringing at the man’s words. 

“I’mma kill ya,” he repeated with even more intensity. 

A smirk curved the man’s lips upward. “Nah, I don’ think so. _I’m_ gonna kill you.”

Dwight’s finger started adding pressure on the trigger; gun pointed at his face. 

Daryl’s body screamed at him to act. To flee. _To do something_. 

Just as the finger added a bit more pressure on the trigger, a vehicle parked right outside; its headlights lighting the place up. Dwight’s attention on him wavered just the slightest and his finger lost its pressure on the trigger as he slightly turned his head to the side, toward the front door. It was all Daryl’s pumped self needed to surge forward and knock the skinny man off his feet then punched him as hard as he could on the side of his face, so hard his hand lost its grip on the gun. Daryl snatched it from the loose hand and aimed it at Dwight’s head. 

He pulled the trigger without hesitation. 

A grunt from behind him broke the heavy silence following after the gunshot, drawing his attention back to Simon. 

He kneeled beside the man to survey the damage. The wound was on the shoulder. He’d make it.

“Hey, hold on, buddy,” he huffed, receiving a scowl look from the wounded man.

“I’m yer buddy, now?” Simon grunted, scrunching up his face and yelping in pain as he tried to sit up, but failed. “Ah, fuck!”

“Shit, yer more n’ that,” Daryl said as he helped the grunting man sit up. “What ya did fer Rick... I owe ya everythin’,” he said in earnest. “Why’d ya do it?”

“Told ya. I respect yer brother. And I know how much he cares ‘bout yer sorry ass. When ya told me that baby was yers…I don’ know…just thought Merle wouldn’ be too happy if his niece or nephew got hurt.”

“Thanks, man…fer everythin’,” Daryl said with intent, then smirked. “m’sorry I punched ya.”

Simon scoffed and threw him a dirty look. “I’mma punch ya back as soon as I can.”

He snorted. “s’fine.”

“This is the police! Drop your weapon and come out with your hands above yer head!” Shane called from the other room.

“Hey, it’s me. Back here!” 

“Daryl?” Shane called.

“Yeah,” he gruffed. “Get in here.”

Shane came barging in, holding his gun up. It took him a while to process the scene but when he did, after taking a close look at the dead man beside the door, shifted his gaze back to him. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” Daryl huffed then nodded down at Simon, “but he ain’t so call an ambulance.”

Shane looked at the man with a frown. “Who’s this?”

“None o’ yer damn business,” Simon muttered, throwing Shane a murderous look.

“Wanna chat it out?” he grunted impatiently and thankfully, Shane brought the radio speaker close to his mouth and left the room to contact the station. Daryl turned his attention back to Simon. “Ya need t’ give me yer leader’s name. I already gave the names of the ones that beat up Rick. They gon’ catch ‘em, but it ain’t enough.” 

Simon huffed, shaking his head. “I ain’ gonna do that, m’ not rattin' him out…but don’t ya worry, one of the other boys may crack.” 

Daryl hoped he was right.

***

Rick was allowed to go home the next day. Daryl had him sit on the couch and brought all sort of things to make him more comfortable: Blankets, pillows, remote control, the phone, food, anything he might need so he wouldn’t have to stand up unless absolutely necessary. He’d even put a pillow under his sprained ankle on the coffee table. It’d been two whole days of constant fussing and although Rick loved being pampered by the archer, he didn’t like feeling useless.

“You okay in there?” he asked with amusement when he heard Daryl huff for the third time in a row while he stood helplessly in front of the kitchen. “You know I’m fine with just a sandwich, right?”

Daryl huffed again. “’s all ya’ve had fer two days. Ya need sum’ real food in ya.”

“Okay, let help you,” Rick said, clutching the blanket Daryl had forced on him and moved it aside to uncover his legs. He’d done that simple gesture at least ten times that day only to have Daryl bark at him not to dare get up unless it was necessary, say… for bathroom needs only. Now was no exception.

“What did I say?” the archer scolded when he caught him. Rick sighed and dropped the blanket over his legs again. Nothing escaped the hunter’s sharp eyes.

That night at the hospital had been hectic at the least. When Daryl made it back, he learned of everything that’d happened while he was lying helpless on the hospital bed, clueless of everything that was happening at the time. About Dwight, about Simon; how Daryl could’ve gotten himself killed if Shane hadn’t showed up in time. 

Rick was furious at him for being so reckless, and Daryl apologized for lying to him, but the archer didn’t regret any of it, he could tell, so he’d been left with no other option but to forgive him. 

It still stunned him the extents Daryl would go to just to keep him safe. He’d killed that man. And Rick couldn’t help but think he’d do the same for him.

There was a knock on the door and Daryl hurried to open it, pointing a finger at him. “Ya stay right there.”

Rick smirked, shaking his head at the hunter’s over protectiveness.

It was Carol.

“Hey!” she said, smiling her bright smile as she stepped inside. Daryl greeted her and threw an awkward glance his way. Rick grimaced slightly. They hadn’t even approached the subject of their latest fight. 

Setting the blanket aside, Rick sat up to greet her properly while putting on what he hoped was an honest smile. “Carol, it’s really nice to see you.” 

“Don’t stand up, sweetie,” she said, stepping past Daryl and making her way over to the couch. “How’re you doin’? I _just_ heard what happened, figured someone would’ve told me,” Carol said, glaring at Daryl in good humor.

“We didn’t wanna worry anyone. I’m fine,” he said in the archer’s defense.

“And the baby?”

“She’s great,” he replied, placing his hand on the bump as if to make a point.

“That’s good to hear,” she sighed in relief.

Rick smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Here,” Carol said, turning to Daryl to hand him the mountain of plastic boxes she was carrying. 

“What’s this?” the hunter grunted.

“Well, I didn’t know how to help, so I just…started cooking. I figured you’d need it,” she explained.

“You really didn’t have to, but thank you, Carol. It’s really thoughtful. And we really did need it,” he said, chuckling at Daryl’s relieved look. 

“I’m happy to help,” she said, smiling proudly. 

“Ya got no idea how much yer helpin’,” Daryl said and nudged her playfully with his elbow before setting the food down on the coffee table.  
When Carol left, Daryl took the remote to turn the TV off.

Rick sighed and adjusted his position, staring down the whole time. He knew what was coming.

“Rick—”

“Daryl,” Rick interrupted, turning apologetic eyes at the archer. “I’m sorry.” 

“Ya need t’ know somethin’, Rick,” Daryl said, sitting in front of him on the coffee table, right next to the delicious smelling food. Damn, he was hungry. “What ya are t’ me... never had anythin’ like it ‘fore. Yer everythin’ t’ me an’ I’ll never want anyone other n’ ya. I’d never do anythin’ to mess up what we h’ve. We’re a family now. S’ all I ever wanted.”

Rick smiled as a warm feeling spread through his chest at those words. They were a family. 

“I don’t know what I was thinkin’. I trust you. And I know you would never do something like that to me. Carol either.” 

Daryl nodded, nipping on his lower lip. 

He huffed guiltily. “I don’ know how I ever thought that about you two. I’m sorry.” 

“Ya don’ gotta be. I get it. Carol said it could be the stress.”

Rick frowned. “She knows?”

“We was talkin’,” Daryl shrugged. “Came out.”

“I gotta talk to her. Apologize,” he sighed again, feeling even more remorse.

“No need. She gets it.”

“But still.”

Daryl understood. 

“And I feel the same,” he said, meaning every word. “You’re it for me.”

Daryl smiled, casting his eyes down shyly. It was adorable.

“What’d you think is in there?” Rick asked tentatively, nodding toward the food boxes. “Smells great.”

“Let’s find out.”

“I’m stuffed,” Rick groaned, setting his plate on the table and leaning back against the couch, rubbing soothing circles on his belly. 

Daryl licked his fingers clean and set his plate on top of Rick’s, then turned to him, leaning over to kiss the baby bump. “Was it good, lil’ Ass-kicker? Ya like Carol’s cooking? Bet she’ll make tons of sweets fer ya since yer daddies ‘ere can’t bake fer shit.”

“Daryl! She’s not even born yet and you’re already teaching her how to swear,” he scolded in jest. 

Daryl scoffed. “With her daddy an’ uncle, she gon’ be swearin’ ‘fore she walks.”

“I bet,” he laughed. 

There was another knock on the door and Daryl groaned. “We should put one of those signs on the door… Go fuck yerself, or somethin’.”

Rick chuckled. “I wouldn’ want Carl to see that.”

“Won’ be aimed at ‘im,” Daryl shrugged and got up to open it. It was Shane.

“How you doin’, Rick? You okay?” Shane asked. They’d moved to the table so they could talk more properly. 

“Yeah, fine,” he nodded distractedly while eyeing the clipboard in his friend’s hand. 

Shane nodded and perked his brow up as he glanced at both of them. “That’s good, because I have some news.”


	18. So close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Finally!! I’m so sorry for the delay. I guess it being the last chapter added some pressure and I got writer’s block in one particular scene that I had to rewrite like five freaking times. And since I didn’t want to make another chapter, this last one turned up long as hell. But now I’m done, thankfully. First multi-chaptered story I finish! Yaaay! 
> 
> I really, REALLY, hope you enjoyed reading this story. I definitely enjoyed writing it. I hope I didn’t leave lose ends and that it all came together in the end satisfactorily. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support from beginning to end; comments, kudos, encouraging words. Everything! You are amazing and I love you all! 
> 
> Tell me what you think, if you feel like it. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, by the way.
> 
> Thank you all again!
> 
> Remember this story is unbeta’d. They’re all my mistakes and I apologize for each.
> 
> Also, I totally stole that last line from the movie 25th hour.
> 
> ***

“And they’re not good.”

Daryl’s interest perked up tenfold at that and he approached the table, pulling out a chair to sit next to Rick and across from Shane. 

Stealing glances at him from time to time, Daryl noticed Rick’s anxious demeanor so he reached out from under the table to give the man’s knee a reassuring squeeze. The corner of his lover’s mouth tugged up in a tiny smirk at the gesture and a hand covered his own. He squeezed the knee again.

“First of all, Basset,” Shane continued, drawing their attention, pausing for a moment to look up at Daryl. “You were right. He was the one to warn his brother.”

“Told ya,” he scoffed but Shane ignored his attitude and continued talking.

“He’s pretty messed up so getting information out of him wasn’t easy, but he did say he was just trying to look out for his brother.” 

“Yeah, by havin’ ‘im kill me,” he snarled.

The lawman sent a reproaching glance his way for interrupting. Daryl glared back, but held his tongue. Hearing what Shane had to say was much more important than venting out his anger.

“Whatever Basset’s real involvement with the saviors is— it’s being looked into.”

Rick nodded sullenly at those words while obsessively rubbing his index with middle finger and thumb; his nervous tick. “Never thought much of him, but he never struck me as a bad guy,” he grunted, heavily lifting his gaze to meet Shane’s.

“Not to me either,” Shane said, letting out a long sigh before continuing. “Remember that rumor going on at the station I told you about?” Rick nodded. “He was the one who told me about it. And now I think about it, he was probably the one to start it. Maybe his brother got him to do it so he could get it out of me—I’m guessing they had their suspicions and wanted confirmation.”

“Yeah, and they got it,” he grunted.

“Hey, he didn’t know,” Rick told him, briefly looking at him and raising his palm as if to stop a brawl between the two. “Besides, they would’ve found out some other way. And maybe they did. It’s a small town after all. News travel fast, especially some as unusual as these,” he said, gesturing down at his belly.

Shane’s eyes dropped to the table as if he were trying to see the baby bump through the wood. “I’m still sorry, man,” he offered, looking back up at his former partner apologetically.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Rick said, brushing off his friend’s worries with a smile. “So what is the bad news?” 

Shane’s gaze hardened at that and he spoke in a sullen tone. “Those men…your attackers…” Rick nodded, prompting him to go on. “Two of them are missing. The other four…they’re dead.”

“Dead?” Rick huffed in disbelief. 

Shane nodded. 

“So what, ya got nothin’ then?” Daryl gruffed; standing up from his seat to pace about angrily. “What of their leader?”

Rick’s gaze dropped back to the table; a set on frown marring his features.

“We have no information regarding him for the moment…” Shane said sternly, looking straight at him, “…unless you have some.”

“Don’ know ‘im,” he shrugged. “Wish I did. Not even ma’ brother Merle knows ‘im n’ he was part of ‘em fer a while,” Daryl rumbled. “I can give ya more names if ya want. I know a bunch of guys who used to hang out with them saviors. Don’ know if they’re part of ‘em now, but they could know somethin’.”

Shane sighed and nodded after a pause. “That could be useful, but for now we need to talk about your safety,” he said, shifting his eyes to his former partner.

Rick let out a shuddering breath; jaws tight and brow furrowed, his arm cradling their growing child protectively. “What can you do for us?”

Daryl cringed at the beaten tone in his love’s voice. If only he’d been able to convince Simon to speak. But the man was loyal to his leader and that loyalty was probably the reason why he was still alive. The leader trusted him not to give away his identity and with reason. Dwight, on the other hand was not to be trusted, according to Simon. So by a twisted hand of fate, Daryl had helped the fucker stay undercover when he killed him. 

“We’ll keep a patrol circling the area and an officer will stand guard during night as long as the investigation is in course,” Shane informed.

“What if they come durin’ the day?” Daryl scoffed and approached the front window to look out briefly then returned to the table; his hands itching for a cigarette.

“We believe that by killing his men he was trying to protect his identify. It’s unlikely he’ll attempt anything at the moment.”

“Shoulda handled this myself,” he muttered, but Shane heard him alright.

“Like you handled Dwight?”

He was about to snap something back but the front door opened and Carl walked in.

“Hey, everyone,” the teen greeted; eyeing them hesitantly as he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing new,” Rick said nonchalantly, forcing on a tight smile. “How was school?”

“Fine. Everyone was asking about you,” Carl said and approached them slowly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” Rick smiled at his son, now with an honest, although tired smile. “Better.”

Daryl noticed just then how worn out Rick seemed, holding a slightly crouched posture which he inadvertently shifted as his son came closer.

“Well, I guess that’s all for now,” Shane said as he stood up. Rick tried following suit but stopped himself halfway through with a pained grunt. 

“Stay there. I’ll walk him out,” he said, motioning for the former deputy to sit back down.

Rick nodded then looked to Shane. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” Shane nodded then turned to Carl and placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “Was nice seeing you again, my man. Take care of your dad, yeah?”

“I will,” Carl smiled proudly. “See you.”

Daryl followed Shane as he exited the house and walked toward his patrol car. He stopped abruptly then turned slowly to face him, sporting a questioning look on his face. “Are you sure you don’t know who their leader is?”

“If I knew ‘im, he’d be dead already,” he huffed. “So no, I don’t know ‘im.”

Shane nodded. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Whatcha mean?” he gruffed, stepping closer to the other man.

“What you did the other day— that was incredibly stupid. It could’ve gone horribly wrong for you _and_ for Rick.”

“Didn’t,” he shrugged.

“I’m serious, Daryl. You could’ve gotten yourself into serious trouble if it hadn’t gone the way it did, or worse. You’d be dead.”

“Did what I had to do,” the archer hissed.

Shane chuckled. “You just don’t get it, do you?” 

“Nah ya don’ get it! That prick aimed a gun at my head. Was gonna kill me. Was gonna kill Rick afterwards. Came outta his own mouth! N’ he ain’t even the leader. That asshole’s the one that wants Rick dead, so if I knew ‘im, I’d be on my way to put an arrow through his skull.”

Shane gave him a sharp look before speaking. “Rick needs you right now. Here, not running off trying to get yourself killed. You have a baby on the way. You gotta do what’s best for your family, Daryl. Focus your energy on them, not on getting’ revenge.” 

Those words hit their mark. Shane was right.

“Just get ‘im,” he said after a long pause. “He’s gotta pay for what he did to Rick.”

The younger man nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” Daryl nodded and was about to turn back to the house when Shane spoke again. 

“What about that man,” he said in a knowing tone, “the one Dwight shot instead of you?”

“He got nothin’ t’ do with it,” he replied a tad too quickly.

“I ain’t stupid, Daryl,” Shane huffed. “If that man has useful information then we need to get it from him.”

“Already tried it. He ain’t gonna talk. Least to a cop,” Daryl said, gesturing toward the police car.

“But he _is_ one of them?”

“He already risked his life fer Rick. He’s done enough fer us. Leave ‘im be.”

Shane nodded in understanding and looked out into the street. “Fair enough.”

“Everythin’ alright?” Rick asked as Daryl stepped back into the house.

“Yeah.”

“What were you two talkin’ about?”

“Nothin’ new.”

“I hope you’re not plannin’ takin’ matters into your hands again. I mean it,” Rick said in a hushed tone for Carl not to hear. “I almost lost you while I was at the hospital thinking you were _just_ retrieving your bike. You can’t do that to me again.”

Daryl stared at Rick in astonishment. There were tears forming in the corners of the younger man’s eyes and his voice shook with the intensity those words held. 

He’d never been more certain than in that very moment that Rick loved him. 

Reaching out, the hunter wrapped his arms around the tense shoulders, bringing his lover closer to speak against his ear. “I ain’t chasing’ after ‘im. Gonna stay right here with ya.”

“Thank you,” came the muffled reply.

After Lori came by to pick up Carl and see how Rick was doing, they cuddled on the couch to watch a movie that they hardly paid attention to for Rick was in the mood for something else and kept snuggling closer to make his point known.

“Yer gonna push me off the couch if ya keep at it,” he teased.

“I want you to fuck me,” the younger man moaned out, nudging him playfully on the side.

“Yeah, I got that,” he said, then raked his eyes over the bruised face. “ain’t ya in too much pain fer that?” 

“Not where I want it,” Rick grinned. 

Daryl threw him a sharp look. “I ain’t hurtin’ ya.”

“I’m kiddin’. We’ll do it slow,” he said and leaned in to peck him on the cheek before standing up from the couch. “Plus, those painkillers do wonders on me.”

They did go slow. Daryl took his time to pick the younger man apart bit by bit, opening him up with gentle fingers and careful thrusts. When he sunk his member into the tight heat, he did so slowly; inch by agonizing inch until he was fully sheathed inside the hot channel. 

Rick became frustrated at him a couple of times, but they both ended up enjoying the intimate pace as they were able to kiss and look into each other’s eyes while Daryl thrust in and out; something not easy to accomplish with a much faster pace. 

When they were both spent, Rick only let him turn on the lights once his shirt was back on, claiming he didn’t like the pained look the archer gave him and his bruises. 

It was okay. They’d go away soon enough.

The next day, Rick was feeling a lot better. They still hadn’t gotten news from Shane, but in a way it was better, for although Daryl could tell he was still scared and disturbed by those saviors’ deaths, the younger man was in a much brighter mood than he’d been in weeks. They’d even been talking about turning the small office— which was currently being used as a storage room for all the boxes Rick never got around to open when he moved there— into their little girl’s bedroom.

“Do you think pink is the right choice?” Rick asked suddenly, sounding deeply concerned about the matter. 

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, eyeing the other man with a smile. “What’d ya think?”

“I don’t know, either. It’s the safest choice, I guess, but she could hate it. And wouldn’t it be like…imposing something on her?”

He snorted. “’S just a color, Rick. She ain’t gonna hate it. She’s a baby.” His phone rang suddenly. “Hang on.”

“Hey, baby brother.”

“Merle,” Daryl sighed, not in the mood for dealing with Merle at the moment. 

“That how ya greet yer dyin’ brother? Like yer sick of ‘im?”

“Ya ain’t dying,” he scoffed.

“But I am, baby brother.”

Daryl frowned and stood up from the couch. He had to take a couple of deep breaths to ease the unpleasant tightness in his stomach. “What?” 

“Dyin’”

“Quit pissin’ ‘round. I don’ got time fer yer games. There’s sum’ shit goin’ on here. Tell ya ‘bout it later.”

“There won’ be a later,” the older Dixon rasped in a sullen tone. Merle never dropped his mocking tone, unless it was something especially serious.

He moved to the door and exited the house for more privacy. “Da hell ya on ‘bout?” he huffed. 

“’m getting’ the needle.”

_The needle_. No way. 

“What?” he asked again for his brain seemed unwilling to process any thought effectively with all the thrumming in his ears caused by his pounding heart.

“S’ all set up for this afternoon.”

“Tha fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout Merle?” 

His voice was shaking and he had to swallow thickly for his mouth had gone positively dry. 

_It was a joke. It had to be a joke._

“Killed a guard, man. Couldn’t help ma’ self.”

“Tha fuck, Merle?” Daryl huffed; heart violently hammering against his ribcage. It was turning difficult to even breathe.

“Ya gotta come down ‘ere if ya wanna say goodbye.”

“Man, ‘r ya serious?”

“Serious as death, lil’ bro,” Merle admitted. “Ya gonna come or what?”

“Be right there,” he strained out around the knot in his throat, trying to fight the tears gathering in the corners of his yes. 

“What happened?” Rick asked with concern and only then did he realize he’d walked back into the house.

“Man, I gotta go,” he choked out and grabbing his crossbow out of instinct— as it’d be of any help— he stormed out and jumped on his bike with haste.

Rick’s concerned voice trying to get an explanation out of him was muted down by the roar of his motorbike as he sped off. 

_This could not be happening._

A wretched sob escaped him as the prison came into view. 

Daryl had been preparing himself all his life for his brother to be taken to jail or turning up dead in a ditch somewhere; either by getting himself killed in a fight or by an overdose. And consequentially, he’d been preparing himself for Merle doing something stupid in prison and getting himself a longer sentence, or life. _But this?_ Never this. _And for what?_ A stupid reason, no doubt. 

“Fucking Merle,” he sighed as he stopped and parked his bike outside the gates. They’d kick him out if he tried to get in there with his crossbow. 

He wasn’t even halfway through the pathway leading to the main entrance when a familiar face came into view; its owner grinning a tad too merrily for someone sentenced to die. 

_Fucking Merle._

“Hey, Darlina, s’ nice seein’ ya. Good t’ know ya still care ‘bout yer older brother.”

Daryl stared at him in shock, mouth opening and closing at least three times before he was able to utter words again. 

“Tha fuck are ya doin’ out here?” he hissed, already knowing the answer. Merle was a lying sack of shit.

“Got mah parole, lil’ bro. I’m a free man as of today.” 

“Ya fuckin’ prick!”

“Ya shoulda seen yer face, baby bro. Wish I had a camera with me.” Merle laughed at his expense. “Was like…the lamest lie ever— can’t believe ya fell fer it.” 

“Fuck!” he growled with a mix of relief and anger. “Wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Thought ya was gonna—ya fuckin’ asshole!”

“C’mon, don’ be mad at me, just wanted to give ya a surprise,” Merle said, holding his palms up. 

“Sum’ surprise, ya prick,” he huffed and turned on his heels to walk away.

“Oh, c’mon lil’ brother. Can’t ya take a joke?”

Daryl stopped dead in his tracks at that and turned to face his brother to hiss dangerously at him.

“Any other time I would’a taken the joke, but now there’s serious shit goin’ on n’ I don’ need yer shit on top of it all. I should be with Rick right now!”

“Hey, where ya goin’?”

“Home!” he grunted, and turning back around, he strutted angrily back to his bike. 

“So ya just gon’ leave me here?”

“s’ exactly what I’mma do’”

“Oh, c’mon baby bro, was just a joke!” Merle called after him but he got on his bike and started the engine without looking back. “Hey, that’s mah bike!”

Daryl scoffed and rode off, making it only a few meters before he stopped the bike again and sighed in defeat.

Shaking his head, he turned back around.

***

Rick kept pacing back and forth worrying over Daryl, wondering if he was okay and what could’ve happened to make him go off like that.

For what he was able to pick up from their conversation, something had happened to Merle, and by the sound of it, something particularly bad. Daryl wouldn’t have just stormed off without saying something, otherwise.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

“What!” he huffed angrily, violently swinging it open to find a grinning… _what was his name?_

“Mr. Grimes,” the man greeted merrily, apparently undisturbed by his harsh welcome. 

Rick composed himself quickly and fixed on a polite smile. “Sorry ‘bout that…school coach, right?”

“The very same,” the man nodded then grimaced as he studied his battered face. “Look at your face.”

“Looks worse than it is,” he said, looking down to try and hide from the searching eyes.

“Well, it’s great seeing you’re okay. I come on behalf of my colleagues. They were all very worried about you so they fixed you this basket with a whole bunch of things. There’re ‘get well’ cards somewhere in here as well and a cake baked by Mrs. Miller.” 

“I sure will,” Rick said, trying to place Mrs. Miller in his memory so he could thank her later. “Thank you, by the way,” he said and attempted to take the basket, but the man stopped him. 

“I got it. You seem to be in a fuck load of pain,” Carl’s coach said, and before he could complain, the man was halfway through the door. 

“It’s getting better,” he said, following the man into the house and closing the door hesitantly. 

Narrowing his eyes, Rick tried to maintain a polite smile as he watched the tall man boldly make his way to the dining table to set the basket down, walking with sure steps and acting as if he owned the damn place. He then turned and made a show of inspecting the house with prying eyes. “You have a _lovely_ home,” he said when he was done; sporting a smug smirk, and Rick didn’t know if he was being serious or sarcastic— probably the latter.

Pursing his lips in irritation, he spoke tightly. “Thank you, but this isn’t really a good time—” 

“Rick, right?” the man interrupted completely ignoring Rick’s evident discomfort.

“Yes,” he said, shifting his gaze toward the door and hoping the man would catch the hint and leave. 

“I gotta tell you, Rick,” the coach said, pulling out a chair and sitting on it heavily, stomping on his hopes to be left alone with his worries. “When first I heard about what they did to you, I was horrified—” he paused, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Care to join me?” 

Doing his best to quell down the unpleasant feeling in his gut the man’s presence caused, he forced on a smile and moved to sit in front of the man. 

“I couldn’t help but wonder what reason could they have to do something like that?” the man continued. 

“Reason?” he frowned, cocking his head to the side. “People like them don’t reason.”

The man’s gaze hardened for a fleeting second, before he cracked up into a chuckle and a wide grin. “You’re probably right.”

Rick couldn’t return the mirth. Something about the man’s bearing irked him and he couldn’t help but feel like he was being mocked.

“You seem to have a knack for being in the spotlight,” the school coach said out of the blue.

“What do you mean?” he huffed, narrowing his eyes. It was becoming a task trying to suppress the need to smack that grin off the man’s face.

“I know you got shot a little more than two years ago— Quite the event for such a quiet town.”

Rick forced on a smile. “I hardly got to enjoy any of it, sadly.”

“Right. You were in a coma. I’d forgotten about that,” Carl’s coach nodded, studying him closely. “You’ve escaped death a couple of times.”

He nodded slowly, holding the man’s heavy gaze sternly. And yet, the man wouldn’t stop grinning. 

For some reason, Rick yearned to have his gun in his hand. The man made him feel cornered, and he hated that feeling.

“They say nature has a way of fixing itself,” said the man after a tense pause.

Rick frowned. “Fixing?”

“Oh, you know… wrong doings, mistakes; actions that disturb the natural order of things… _people_.” 

This wasn’t the first time he’d been on the receiving end of an insult. Working in law enforcement, he had to grow a thick skin against them— drunken teenagers getting caught causing trouble and high shoplifters didn’t react kindly to be taken into custody— but this was the first time he’d received such an ill-intentioned one, directed not only to him, but his relationship with Daryl and their child as well.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he gruffed and attempted to stand up to see the man out, but that familiar, blood chilling click made him freeze on the spot.

“I think it’s time for you to listen.”

Swallowing thickly, Rick sat back on the chair slowly, eyeing the man warily as he lifted the gun from hip level to the top of the table. 

“And it’s Negan, by the way.”

Rick’s pulse quickened as realization hit him. “You did this to me. You’re their leader,” he said, hating how shaky his voice sounded. 

“Yes, I’m their leader, but don’t get ahead of yourself. It wasn’t me who gave out that order. That was Dwight, who I have to thank Daryl for killing, by the way. He’s been causing me a great deal of trouble lately. Plus, he saved Simon from him in the process. He’s one of my most loyal men. It would’ve been a shame losing him.”

“Why are you here, then?” he dared to ask.

Negan smirked. “I think you know.”

At that, his stomach dropped. The thought of Daryl coming home to find him lying on a pool of blood shattered him. 

“Why go through all the trouble of killing your men if you were plannin’ on killing me here— like this— You’ll still get caught!” he hissed.

Negan scoffed. “I didn’t kill my men so they wouldn’t talk; I killed them because they disobeyed my orders and listened to Dwight anyway after I told them he was not to be trusted.” 

Rick paled at that. Negan was insane.

“And Simon,” he said, after swallowing a lump in his throat. “Why did he—?”

“—spare you?” Negan shrugged. “No idea. I probably should’ve told him I was gonna kill you anyway and save him the trouble.”

Rick scoffed. “So you’re just gonna kill me ‘cause you think I disturb the natural order of things or some _bullshit_ like that?” he gruffed; voice picking up volume toward the end.

“No. I’m killing you because I want you dead,” the man said serenely, as if he hadn’t just said he wanted him dead. 

“What’re you waiting for, then?” Rick asked before he could stop himself. 

Negan played with his beard for a moment then stood up and pointed to a spot on the floor. “Get up and kneel over there.”

***

“Is this _home_?” Merle asked with a certain tone as they hopped off the bike, “s’ nice.”

“Yeah,” he grunted and shoved his hand down his pocket to fish out his keys. He detached the bike’s key from the keychain and handed it over to Merle. “Here’s yer bike, now piss off.”

“Yer still mad?” Merle asked, gesturing toward the door. “C’mon, I wanna see yer house.”

“Not today.”

“Really? I just get out n’ ya send me off? Where m’ I s’posed t’ go?”

“I don’ know. Go t’ our dad’s cabin,” Daryl grunted.

“That thing still stands?”

“Yeah, but don’ make a mess, n’ don’ bring yer crack buddies neither.”

“Got ya, boss,” Merle teased. “Man, living with Rick is really tamin’ ya down, lil’ bro. Yer all domestic now, I bet.”

“Shut it.”

Daryl was still pissed so he didn’t notice the dark truck parked between the house next door and theirs, until his brother pointed it out.

“Whose truck is that?” Merle asked curiously.

“Don’ know,” he shrugged and made his way to the door.

“Hold on a second,” his brother said and approached the side of the house with stealthy steps to peer in through the window. “Oh, boy,” Merle huffed suddenly. 

“What?” he asked and made his way over.

“The leader of the saviors—” Merle said and turning to look at him, he pointed his index inside the house “—he’s right in there with yer boyfriend.”

“What?!” he hissed and made to run for the door, but Merle stopped him, holding him still and quiet with a choking hold around his neck, leaning closer to whisper in his ear.

“Yer not bargin’ in just like that. Think’ he came ‘ere just t’ chitchat with Rick?” 

“Gotta get in there!” he hissed back and tried to get free of Merle’s choking hold, desperate to get to Rick.

“Ya listen here. Ya gotta think! Bargin’ in won’t do a thing other than put yer precious family in danger.”

Daryl ceased his movements as his brain absorbed Merle’s words. 

“Ya said ya didn’t know ‘im!” he hissed, pushing his brother away when Merle eased up his hold.

“Was fer yer own good,” Merle huffed. “I knew ya’d run off to find ‘im if it told ya who he was.”

Daryl glared at him and approached the window to see for himself. He was met with the most terrifying scene he’d ever had to witness. 

“No!” he huffed out of breath as his chest constricted with fear.

The man had a gun in his hand and was aiming it at Rick’s head who he had kneeling on the floor in front of him looking up at him with fear and shaking like a leaf.

Losing all control and rational thought, Daryl stormed past Merle’s grabbing arms and went for the door, using his bulk to bust it open. He barged inside the house and aimed an arrow at the man’s face. 

“Drop yer weapon. Now!” he shouted.

“Woah! What’s this?” The man said, seemingly unperturbed by the outburst and the arrow aimed at him. “Think better about what you’re gonna do with that, Daryl. I got my finger right on the trigger. Just a tad bit more pressure…”

“Drop it!” Daryl barked at the man again with ferocious intensity, taking a step closer. 

“I’m Negan, by the way,” the man told him smiling, ignoring his threat completely. “And I have to say I appreciate you killing that traitor Dwight. You could be a good addition to our organization after all.”

“Drop the gun. I ain’t gonna ask again,” he hissed. 

“Daryl,” Rick muttered in a shaky voice. He was deadly still and looking up at him pleadingly. “Don’t—”

“Wanna say something, Rick?” The man said, leaning closer to Rick and cupping his free hand behind his ear. “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Rick swallowed and shook his head. The action made the man chuckle.

Daryl had never seen his lover more scared and that only increased his anger and determination. He had to end it right there and then, but how? Any reflexive flinch from the man could fire the gun. 

His thoughts were cut abruptly when a heavy weight collided against him from behind and he was brutally shoved against the kitchen counter and onto the floor. The sudden action caused the arrow to fire and land on the wall at the end of the hallway, not even remotely near to his intended target. 

“I take it from ‘ere, bro,” Merle said, snatching the crossbow from his still tight grasp before he could react. Daryl’s stomach churned when Merle put another arrow on it and aimed at him. 

“Don’t!” Rick yelped and attempted to get to him; panic written in his features at Merle’s action, but Negan stopped him.

“Stay where you are,” he said in a warning tone.

“Don’ ya worry, darlin’. This is just a precaution,” Merle sneered at Rick. “I ain’t hurtin’ ma’ brother…just ya.”

Daryl’s heart stopped for a second. “Tha hell ya doin’, Merle?” he growled warily, speaking around the tightness in his throat. 

“Good thing you made it,” the man said, addressing his brother. Daryl threw them a questioning look. 

“Made it? tha hell he on ‘bout, Merle?” he said, sounding more and more desperate as time went by.

The older Dixon just scowled at him before turning his attention to the other man. “Thought we was gonna do this somewhere else, boss. Somewhere more—secluded.”

Daryl’s gut twisted at that and cold dread ran through his system. 

_No way. Not his brother._

“We were, but then I thought, what better place to destroy him than his own home?” Negan said with mirth. Rick shuddered as the man’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. Daryl met his eyes and his heart shattered. Rick was ready to give up. 

“Don’ do this, Merle,” he pleaded, trying to find his brother behind that cold gaze, but Merle ignored him. _This couldn’t be happening_.

“Hey, chief, can I shoot him first? Ya know…just t’ get it off ma’ chest. Ya’ll still get t’ do the honors.”

“Got a better idea,” the leader said gleefully and pulled out a knife from his belt then handed it to Merle. 

Daryl started sweating cold. Merle was vicious with a knife. 

“He’s all yours,” Negan said and walked around Rick to get closer to Daryl, aiming the gun to him now as he gave Merle room to do his business. 

Daryl breathed a little easier as the threat of Rick dying lifted for the time being. The relief didn’t last long for Merle slowly approached his lover with the knife. 

“Merle, don' do this!” he begged when Merle leaned closer to a shaky Rick. 

“This is gon’ be fun. Gonna teach ya not t’ mess with ma’ baby brother’s head,” his brother said against the younger man’s ear who recoiled with fear and eyed the knife warily. 

Rick was sweating profusely; curls plastered to his forehead and looking as pale as death, so much Daryl feared he’d broken into a fever out of sheer terror. 

And he couldn’t even get to him. 

“Merle! Stop! Leave ‘im be!” Daryl choked out, shifting his position so he was now kneeling as well, not caring that the gun got closer as he did so. He couldn’t bear seeing Rick so afraid any longer.

Negan chuckled suddenly. “This is too much fun. I’d be sad if it weren’t so fucking amusing. And to think I almost missed my chance to witness this. I have a lot to thank Simon for.” 

“Good thing,” the older Dixon agreed and lifted the knife. “This is a good knife.”

“What’re you waiting for?” Negan said after a pause, throwing his brother a questioning look.

Merle smirked and finally met Daryl’s eyes. “Doin’ this fer ya, lil’ bro.” 

“Merle, no!” he cried when Merle made a swift move with his arm and Rick crouched over in reflex, waiting for Merle to bury the knife somewhere in his flesh. Instead, the knife flew from his brother’s hand, burying itself on the leader of the saviors’ thigh. 

“Fuck!” Negan hissed; his aim faltering as he bent over in pain. Daryl took the fleeting chance and threw himself bodily at him, something he should’ve thought of better. He yelled as blinding pain engulfed him when the gun fired. 

“Daryl!” he heard Rick shout as he grunted in pain, but he wouldn’t let go and grabbed the man’s wrist, pushing the gun away while Merle wrapped his arm around the taller man’s neck from behind, staying his moves. But they couldn’t bring him down and Merle got knocked back as Negan head butted him on the nose, yelping in pain and cupping his bleeding nose. 

Rick reacted right on time as Negan was wining the hand and the gun got closer and closer to Daryl’s temple. He crawled toward them and pulling the knife from the man’s thigh, he stood upright and with a savage look on his face, slashed the man’s throat with no hesitation. 

Negan’s eyes widened in panic and dropped the gun, bringing the hand to the wound on his neck in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. He slowly sunk down on his knees as strength left him.

“Traitor scum,” he hissed at Merle with the last of his strength before falling on his side. 

Merle scoffed, looking down at the dying man. “Ya really thought I was gonna do that t’ ma’ baby brother’s family? Man, yer fucked up.”

“Daryl…your shoulder,” Rick said with concern as he withdrew his eyes from Negan’s form and helped him sit down on the armchair behind him then carefully started taking off his leader jacket.

“m’ fine,” he said, panting heavily. And he was. Rick and Judith were safe now. It was all that mattered. 

“Merle, call an ambulance,” Rick said, turning to face his brother briefly before turning his attention back to him. “You’re gonna be okay. The bullet came out through the back. That’s a good thing.”

His brother returned to them after making the calls. “They on their way.”

Daryl nodded with a smile, shifting his eyes to meet Merle’s. 

“Shit, Merle,” he huffed. “Fer a moment there I really thought ya were gonna—”

“I’d never d’ that t’ ya, baby bro’,” Merle said before turning to Rick. “Sorry, by the way. But tellin’ ‘im I wanted t’ see ya die was the only way I could think of t’ make ‘im wait. Had t’ tell ‘im I hated yer guts. I don’ even know how it worked. He’s wanted ya dead fer while now.”

Rick sighed, breathing a little bit easier. “Thank you for everything,” he said, placing a hand on Merle’s shoulder. 

His brother smiled. “No problem.”

“Ya talked t’im while ya were inside?” Daryl asked.

Merle nodded. “Plenty. He even visited me a couple times.”

“So ya were ya still a part of ‘em?” he said and his brother nodded.

“Figured it was best t’ know of their whereabouts. Plus, it was one of their conditions if they left ya alone, baby bro.”

Daryl sighed. “Thanks man.”

“No problem,” Merle said with a smirk.

***

The police arrived first— Shane with them— and Rick told him a summarized version of what’d happened. He started shaking as he recalled the events and Shane told him they could do it later.

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later to find a still alive Negan; barely hanging there, but alive. Rick was okay with it. Dying was too mellow a punishment for that man. Life sentence was more suitable.

"No way. We ain’t goin’ with that asshole,” Daryl growled at the paramedic who tried to make him get on the ambulance with Negan.

“We’ll drive there,” Rick offered immediately, knowing damn well Daryl wouldn’t budge in his decision. Besides, he seemed fine enough. He was walking even. 

On their way to the hospital, Rick couldn’t help but talk nonstop, partly from nerves and partly to distract Daryl, hoping engaging him in conversation would make him forget the pain, if even for a moment. He told him how it went, about Negan being a coach in Carl’s school; about Dwight and Simon. Daryl told him about Merle’s parole and his tasteless joke, although he had to admit he laughed out loud at that. He even offered to let him stay with them to which Daryl agreed; at least temporarily. 

 

A year and a few months later, Merle was still living with them. Rick didn’t mind. He’d grown quite fond of the older Dixon. And he was great with Judith; pampered her to ridiculous ends— even worse than Daryl at times. 

Having him around had been a huge stress relief in the months after Negan’s attack, so it was no wonder both of them grew attached to having him there. 

Daryl had been working when Judith decided she wanted out and it was Merle who rushed him to the hospital. Daryl was there immediately after, of course. As was Carl and Carol— even Lori and Shane.

According to what Dr. Greene had told him, there was no guarantee his body would know what to do when the time came, but it turned out it _did_ know exactly what to do, and a week earlier than the set date for his c-section, Judith had wanted out and there’d been nothing to do about it. It was by far the worst pain he’d ever experienced, but I’d been worth every hour it lasted. Daryl had almost passed out from nerves and according to Merle, had thrown up a couple of times. Rick chuckled at the memories.

“She don’ like it,” Merle said, arguing with Daryl as he tried feeding Judith a slice of apple.

Daryl scoffed. “What’d ya know?”

“M’ tellin’ ya.”

And in fact, Judith rejected the apple. 

“She likes applesauce, tho, don’t ya, sweetheart?” Daryl cooed, turning her in his embrace so she was now facing him and standing on his lap. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled tightly on it, making him grimace with pain while she giggled adorably. 

“That what ya get fer tryin’ t’ give her those damn things,” Merle reasoned, always in defense of his niece.

“Daryl, I need your help with this thing,” Rick called from the kitchen, mildly irritated as he tried cutting the cake in four even layers and failing miserably.

Daryl stood up, carefully handing Judith to Merle’s waiting arms and made his way over.

“Hand me that knife,” the hunter said and started cutting. “Ain’t it and bit dry and kinda hard fer a cake.”

“It has nothing in it, yet,” he huffed, “but yeah, it didn’t rise as much as it should’ve.”

“Ya sure ya followed Carol’s recipe?”

“I did,” he huffed.

Daryl rose and eyebrow. “Step by step?”

“You think I can’t follow simple instructions?”

Daryl nodded. “Yer kinda lousy at it, s’ why ya can’t bake.”

Rick sighed morosely. “Well, this time I did and I honestly don’t know what happened.”

“Okay, what’re ya gonna fill it with?”

They added the filling and the frosting, and it looked like absolute shit. Carl chuckled when he saw the—supposed to be a birthday cake for Judy—pile of crap. “You guys are useless.”

“If ya ain’t gonna help then piss off,” Daryl scolded in jest and lightly kicked the teen on his butt. 

“Okay, I’m gone,” Carl laughed and left the kitchen, but not before grabbing a package of chocolate cookies from the counter. 

“Hey, we’re gonna need those to give them instead of this thing,” Rick called after the teen but Carl ignored him and sat on the couch next to Merle and gave both him and Judith a cookie. “Shit, what’re we gonna do?” he sighed.

“Don’ matter,” Daryl said, standing behind him and circling his arms around his middle, rubbing circles in his belly. “They gonna forget all ‘bout the cake after we give ‘em the news.”

“I guess,” Rick smiled and turned on the hunter’s embrace to kiss Daryl tenderly. 

“Gonna finish up the decorations. Hey, Merle, come out n’ help me!” Daryl said when they broke apart and went out the backyard door where the table was set. It was warm enough to make the party outside.

Merle shook his head and covering Judith’s ears he yelled at Daryl. “Judith n’ I are spendin’ sum’ quality time t’gether watchin’ cartoons!”

Rick smiled at them. 

“Carl! Ya come out then,” Daryl yelled back from outside, holding a handful of balloons that needed to be inflated with helium. 

Carl groaned and gave his dad a pleading look. Rick nodded toward the open door. “Go.”

“Fine,” the teen grunted, standing up reluctantly. 

Lori, Carol and Dale; all showed up with presents for Judy, even little Sophia, who spent all day with Carl laughing at videos on YouTube after getting bored to death by their _adult_ conversations.

“Man, m’ tellin’ ya. Speak from personal experience,” Daryl spoke while making Judith jump up and down on his leg and making her giggle nonstop. “Poison oak ain’t somethin’ t’ laugh ‘bout. Itches somethin’ awful. My ass knows that too well.”

They all laughed at Daryl’s itchy ass.

“Hey stop that,” Rick told Daryl once he stopped laughing. “You’re gonna make her throw up all over us.”

“Nah, she’s havin’ fun,” the archer said, threading his fingers through Judith’s soft, honey locks before leaning over to plant a kiss on them. “Plus, she can throw up on me all she wants.”

Rick shook his head, smiling.

When they announced their news, they all cheered happily and congratulated them. 

“Can’t say m’ surprised, tho,” Merle said after hugging Rick tightly. “Ya guys bang like bunnies.”

“Merle!” he scolded, looking at the kids in horror, to see if they’d heard. They hadn’t, but to his utter embarrassment, all the rest had and were laughing at their expenses; Carol and Lori were the worst. Daryl just smiled smugly.

Shane arrived sometime near the end— after his shift— to deliver his present and pick up Lori. Carl would be staying the night. 

It’d taken months for those two to stop feeling guilty about their relationship, until Rick had enough. He sat them both down and told them a thing or two. He was happy now. And they had a right to be as well. 

After everybody left, Rick went to bed exhausted but satisfied. Judith’s first birthday had turned out a success after all. Even the cake ended up tasting good.

When he entered the bedroom, he was met with the loveliest of sights: Daryl and Judith sleeping soundly; her sprawled on her dad’s broad chest and both surrounded by loads of wrapping paper and new toys and clothes. 

Pushing the mess his husband and daughter had made to the foot of the bed, Rick lay down beside them and propped his weight on his elbow to watch them sleep while threading his fingers alternatively through both their soft locks. He smiled happily.

And to think this was so close to never happening.

THE END


End file.
